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danveration · 3 months

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Sleep well, amour.

Parings: Alastor x reader

Summary: You’ve been very intrested in Alastor ever since you met him. He invites you to see his recording studio, which you accept. Then you ask if you can stay and listen to him host! While listening, you fall asleep. How does he react?

Word count: 2844

Warnings: Ummm not really much? Alastor being Alastor! One mention of not being able to sleep sometimes, mention of seeing people in hell doing dr*gs, k*lling eachother, and fighting, mention of reader having bad social skills (?)

part two

A/N: UM!! this is my first time writing for alastor, so apologies if it isn’t the best. Please give me any feedback you want, I’d love to hear it! Also sorry for any spelling mistakes. I hope you enjoy :’)

Alastor the radio demon. You know of the things he’s done, you know that people are quite literally terrified of him. But for some reason... you feel a certain way towards him that you can’t describe, but it’s surely not fear.

You’ve had a some-what odd admiration of him since you landed in hell, only a few months ago. You got spotted by Charlie when you first got to hell. She noticed you looking around nervously and lost, and put two and two together that you must be new. She very kindly introduced herself which was refreshing because.. well.. it’s hell. Everywhere you looked people were fighting, doing drugs, and even killing each other. You were glad there were kind people even down here.

“Hi, you! Uh, you lost?” Charlie smiled you and waved.

“Um yeah! I’m guessing this is hell, huh?” You awkwardly chuckle. Social skills weren’t ever your thing, it seems they haven’t got better after you died, either.

“Yep! This is hell! You must be new? I’m Charlie! Charlie Morningstar. It’s so nice to meet you.” She smiled and stuck out her hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Charlie! My names Y/n.” You politely smiled back and shook her hand.

After that meeting, Charlie showed you to the hotel in which you eagerly accepted to stay at, her being the only sane thing you’ve seen down here. It was a pretty nice place, no 5 star hotel like back on earth, but it was something you’re very grateful for. Who knows what would’ve happened to you if you haven’t met her.

While she was showing you around, someone caught your eye. He was a tall man, very polite and respectful looking. He was dressed head to toe in old fashioned attire, with a cane to suit his charming look. He was smiling in a way that made you look at him like he was something you wanted to inspect under a magnifying glass.

He glanced at you and smiled larger, stepping over to you and Charlie.

“My, my! What do we have here? Charlie! You didn’t tell me that we’ve got more guests? It’s a pleasure to meet you, my dear! The names Alastor!” He spoke politely.

His voice was sort of.. Radio-like? You found it soothing.

“Haha yeah! I found them wandering around on the street this morning! They’re a newcomer, their name is Y/n.” She spoke back, excited to introduce you.

“Y/n! Well, my, my. That’s quite a lovely name!” He said. “Say.. do you listen to radio? I host a brilliant radio broadcast that’ll give you some real insight on this place!” He said enthusiastically.

“Oh.. haha thank you” You smile. “I do actually! I love radio shows.” You immediately feel drawn towads him. You cant tell if it’s just the new scenery or what.. but you want to just sit and chat with him for hours.

Alastor perks up at that. “Oh you do, do you?” He smiled more.

“Yeah! Back when I was.. uhm.. alive, I actually had a whole playlist of them! What do you do your show about?” You ask.

Alastor is delighted to have you take interest in his show. “Well, dear, I do all sorts of things on there! Yes, yes, you think of it and I’ve most probably done it! Most commonly known is the souls I entrap and prison, as I broadcast their screams of horror all over this horrible place and people get to hear the noises of their never-ending torture and demise. But! I also just made a wonderful segment on my mother’s Jambalaya recipe!” He stated.

While part of those sentences gave you chills, you still seemed to take interest in him.

“Well,” you chuckle. “I will certainly check it out!” You smile.

“Ah! Wonderful news, my dear.” He said while he twirled his cane.

Charlie was watching you interact with him and noticed how you looked at him, as if admiring. She smile and said, “well! We better finish the tour.”

She motions for you to follow her and you do, waving Alastor goodbye.

He waves back and yells, “goodbye, sweetheart! Lovely to have met you.”

After that, you wanted absolutely everything to do with him. You’ve also got to know the other people staying at the hotel. Angel, Vaggie, Husk, Niffty, and Sir Pentious. They were overall kind people. Husk found your interest in Alastor to be no good.

“Yeah, no. That, whatever thing you have created in your mind about him, isn’t true. He’s vile, Y/n. Trust me on that.” He grunts.

Angel thought you had some kind of kink towards “scary, creepy men.” Which wasn’t true because you didn’t even find him scary. You found him charming.

“Ah.. Alastor? Fucking sexy weirdo if I do say so myself. He’s got some reaaal problems but hey, if you’re into that-“ You cut him off by saying it wasn’t like that & that you don’t think anything sexual towards him.

One day, you were talking to Sir Pentious about his “crush” on Cherry Bomb. He completely denied it but you could tell from his blush and his nervous demeanour that he was very interested in her.

You were caught off guard when you heard that radio voice coming up from behind you.

“Y/n, my dear! I have a question for you.” Alastor came and stood beside you, looking down from where you’re sitting.

“Al! Hey, what’s up?” You ask, containing your excitement.

Sir Pentious excused himself quickly, seeing one of his “egg boys” were being played with by Niffty. She isn’t one to be gentle.

“So, I know how you’ve been listening to my radio show as of late, and I was wondering if you’d like to see where the magic happens!” He states.

“R-really? I’d be honoured!” You say, smiling.

“Ah! Lovely. Come now, this way.”

You get up and he locks arms with you and chats about his new microphone that he got.

Once you guys arrive, you’re shocked. It looks very professional and comfortable. It suits him heavily. There’s a big open window, a desk, some chairs and sofas, a bunch of technical stuff on the desk along with his new mic that you recognize from his descriptions, and a deer coat hanger?

“Wow, Alastor. This place is so actually so sick. I love it. And the new microphone suits you!” You say. “Thank you for showing me, really.”

Typically, Alastor would never show someone something personal of his, including his studio, but you are an exception. He isn’t sure what it is about you but he doesn’t seem to hate you as much as he does with anyone else. At first he was weirded out, but now he just embraces it. He also feels protective of you. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re even down here. For as far is he can tell, you’re an angel. Always being kind even to those who aren’t kind to you, always saying “please” and “thank you,” all that jazz. Jazz! You even like jazz music, his favourite. He told you that he lived on earth the time jazz music was popular. The 20’s and 30’s. That explains his vocabulary and how he dresses. You just find it more interesting and take time to ask questions about what it was like in that time.

“Why of course, my dear! If I’d want to show anyone here, it would be you.” He says, giving you his iconic smile.

You have a thought. “Hey, Al? Would it be alright if the next time you do a show, I could stay and listen?”

You hope he doesn’t think this is odd.

Alastor raises a brow. “Why would you want to do that?” He asks.

You panic, thinking you went too far by asking and now he’s going to cut you off or something.

“Ha! Kidding, sweetheart! Of course you can. I love when my broadcast is wanted to be listened to. Though I love it as well when they don’t want to.” He says.

You’re relieved, a bit scared, but still relieved.

“Say!” He says. “I was going to make one tonight talking about this silly technology box that thinks he is better than me! You know, expose all his lies and secrets to my listeners, and unwilling listeners. Maybe broadcast it all throughout hell!” He starts laughing manically. Then calms down and stares at you.

“Would you want to stay and listen, hm? I can do it now! I didn’t have any plans today going forward and well, getting it out sooner is better than later, I always say.” He asks.

You know he’s talking about Vox when he mentioned the technology box. Him and Vox have a sort of rivalry going on. Though Alastor seems to not care much about him, Vox is sure obsessed. He’s even gone so far as to making posters about him. Which areee.. not much of a resemblance.

This offer strikes you and you immediately perk up. “Yes! I’d love to.” You say.

You don’t think Alastor knows this but whenever you’re struggling to sleep, you put on his radio show and his voice comforts you to sleep. You’re sure if you told him, he would find it weird.

Little did you know, Alastor already knew. He walked past your room one night and heard static sounds coming from your quarters. He immediately was intrigued and put his ear close to your door to hear his voice. He was surprised, but not weirded out. He found it delightful that you found comfort in his voice. It’s not everyday someone does. Usually it invokes terror and anxiety on anyone who hears. This was new, and he didn’t hate it.

“Lovely! Let me get all set up. You can sit wherever you feel the most comfortable!” He says, adjusting his mic and pressing a buttons on his table.

You find a spot and sit down. Feeling honored to even be in the same room as him, let alone HIS room.

“Ahem! Welcome ladies and gentlemen-“ He goes off into his introduction, before winking at you and starting.

After about 20 minutes, you begin to feel tired and put your head on the side of the wall, still listening but with your eyes closed.

Alastor immediately notices and smirks, knowing how his voice effects you. He continues on and after about another 20 minutes, he finishes up. You’re asleep, slightly smiling.

He walks over to you and looks down.

“My, my. You really are an interesting one, aren’t you?” He whispers. He smiles more softly than he usually does and looks around to find a purple blanket hanging on his deer coat hanger, and gently places it on you.

He feels his heart fluttering while looking down at you and he immediately shrugs it off.

“Mm well, my dear.. I guess you can stay here. I’ll just be over there, transferring my broadcast to the other radios around town.” He says and points to his table.

“Sleep well, amour.” He speaks softly.

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 2 months

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Pairing : Dad!Bangchan x F!Reader TW : Chans daughter is not readers child ; Chans ex wife and daughter are shit starters ; drama of course ; angsty ; honestly, poor Chan ; fluffy ending though ; slightly suggestive at the end as well ; Word Count : 6.5k Request : Anonny : Please write an angsty / fluffy fic about Dad!chan who, after years of not dating, finally decides to get back into dating & when he finally finds someone he doesn't tell reader he has a teenage daughter because he doesn't know how reader would feel about it but when reader finds out they're really upset and avoid him and his daughter reaches out to reader and convinces reader to talk to Chan and make up because she hates seeing her dad upset. A/N : This request is so cute and I'm so happy I get to write it. Of course, it will be super drama because I love when it happens, and with Chans recent bbl messages we know this man loves this kind of shit, so... This is for Chan and Chan stans and we love Chan!

“I got a call from your teacher today, Ella.” Chan said as his daughter walked through the front door. “They said your grades haven’t been the best lately, that you haven’t been focusing in class. Is something wrong? Do you have something going on?” He didn’t want to be the kind of father that always got on his child when their grades were below average, but he also didn’t want his daughter to flunk out. He wanted to see her be successful and happy in life, that’s all he ever wanted.

“I’ve just been going through some stuff, dad.” Ella mumbled as she kicked her shoes into the corner near the front door and dropped her bags onto the floor. “Mom said she’s been trying to get in touch with you lately. I guess she saw that you’ve been posting about going out on your facebook.” She pulled out the chair across the table from Chan. “Why don’t I get to meet your new girlfriend?”

Chan rolled his eyes, finally looking up from his phone to look at his daughter. “You’re changing the subject. What I do in my spare time isn’t important. Your grades are. So tell me, what kind of stuff have you been going through that’s been keeping you from being able to focus. Maybe I can help.”

She huffed loudly, the attitude that he was warned would come along with a teenage daughter was in full force now. “It’s not even important anyway… Don’t you have a date to go on tonight? That’s all you ever talk about anymore. It’s like you don’t even care that mom left…” It was finally making sense to him, but it hurt that she felt that way. He had been kind enough to keep his ex wife’s dirty secrets just that, a secret, so that Ellas view of her mother wouldn’t be warped. He was trying to do the right thing, but it was becoming harder and harder.

“I do care that your mother left… I was hurt by it for a long time, El. It’s been 8 years, and I think that it’s time that I’ve finally moved on because she isn’t coming back. Your mother has gotten remarried, divorced, and married again in those 8 years and I haven’t been with anyone until just a few months ago. I don’t think you’re being very fair right now.” He tried to explain, but he could tell, he could just see it in her face that she wasn’t ready to hear about it. “And, just so you know, I don’t have a date to go on tonight. I was planning on being here to help you with your homework and studying so that I don’t get another call like I had today.”

///

“Had a late night in the studio, huh?” You said as you walked up behind Chan, your arms draping over his shoulders as he sat in front of his computer in his office. You could tell he was tired, he could barely sit up straight and his eyes wouldn’t stay open for longer than a few seconds. “It’s okay to take a break, bubs. It’s 3racha, not ChrisRacha.”

He snickered at the little name, finally swiveling his chair around to face you and pulling you down onto his lap. “You sound like everyone else. I don’t like taking breaks, it gives me too much time to think about the time that I’m wasting.” He explained, his voice was groggy and not even laced, but completely filled with exhaustion. “I’ll be fine once I go over your place tonight, we can cuddle up and watch a movie.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath against your skin sending a wave of goosebumps all over.

“They’re repainting all of the apartments, I can’t even go into my own house right now. I’ve been staying with my parents.” You reminded him, although you were sure you had texted him about it and told him about it in the days leading up to the renovation. “We can go over to your place. We’ve been dating for 4 months now and you haven’t even invited me over.”

There was a reason for that, a reason that you didn’t know of, but he felt it was just better if you didn’t find out. The last thing he wanted was for you to run off because he had a daughter, not just any daughter though, a teenage daughter who was still hung up on the divorce of her parents. She wasn’t the easiest to get along with, and although Chan had tried to butter her up to the prospect of one day meeting you, she didn’t take too kindly to the fact that he was dating again. “My place is a mess…” He lied, trying to muffle his words in the fabric of your shirt so you wouldn’t pick up on it. “We can go to a hotel if you’d like.”

“That seems sleezy…” You mumbled, and he felt awful, he truly did. It felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He absolutely loves his daughter with every ounce of his heart, his entire being, he loved being her father. He loved you too though, you had been the light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel. He didn’t want to have to choose between the two of you, it just didn’t seem fair. “I guess we’ll just wait for my apartment to be ready…” He could feel you trying to pull away, he could tell that you were upset, he didn’t want you to leave like that, so he tightened his arms around you, holding you close to him.

“You’re not sleezy! I’m sorry I even recommended that, you’re better than that.” He quickly tried to get himself out of the hole that he had dug, it felt like he was clawing his way to the top, and everytime he got halfway out, he’d slip and he’d fall right back to the bottom. “I’ll clean my place, I just want it to be perfect for when you come over. Okay? You deserve the best.”

The tension slowly left your body, he felt you soften up against him, and for a moment, it felt like he could breathe again. “Okay… Fine. I’ll wait… I just really miss sleeping next to you.” You whispered, and those words made his stomach feel warm and fuzzy. He missed sleeping next to you too. “I have to get back to work though… I’ll see you later. Try taking a break though, take a nap or something, that’s what the couch is for.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up, his arms reluctantly loosening around you until you were free to go. “Seriously, get some sleep.”

///

“Where are you going?” Ella asked from the couch, watching Chan storm to the front door and yank his coat off the hook. “Did you and your girlfriend get into a little fight? Do you have to go kiss and make up now?” The mocking tone in her voice would usually only slightly irritate him, but he was already beyond irritated at the reason he had to leave in the first place.

“No, it’s your damn mother.” He snapped, pulling his shoes on before grabbing his keys. “I don’t know how long she’ll hold me up, there’s food in the freezer, or you can grab my wallet out of my bag and order yourself something. Try to do some studying while I’m gone, please?” And without another word he was out the front door, slamming it behind him.

What Chan didn’t know was that he had left his wallet at work on his studio desk, and you had gone into his studio before leaving to see if he was there but only found his wallet. He must have left the building without saying anything to you, and you wondered if maybe he was sick or something had happened back at his place. You were doing the right thing, at least that’s what you felt you were doing. You were just going to take his wallet home to him and check up on him. You didn’t mind that his house might be a little dirty, you completely understood that he was busy, you didn’t expect his house to be immaculate.

You weren’t sure why you were so nervous to stand in front of his front door, but a chill ran through your body and you had to take a few breaths before even lifting your hand to knock. Once you did, you took a step back, listening to the locks being undone before the door opened. It wasn’t who you expected to see, it wasn’t Chan, it was a girl, she looked younger, at least 15 or 16. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have read the address wrong.” You quickly apologized, bowing your head to the girl before turning away.

“Who are you looking for?” The girl asked, and what you weren’t aware of was that she had seen Chans wallet in your hand, she knew that you had come to the right address, she was just playing a game that you didn’t know about. You quickly said his name, and she let out a soft hum. “He’s out right now. It’s date night for him and my mom.” You felt your stomach sink, deeper and deeper until it couldn’t go any further. “Is that his wallet? Thank you so much for bringing it, I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you brought it back. Hopefully he’ll answer his phone so he can pick it up and pay the bill, you know?”

You nodded slowly, the bile from your stomach rising into your throat. “Y-Yeah… Of course… H-Here you go.” You stammered, your hand shaking as you handed the wallet over to the girl. You knew she wasn’t lying, she looked so much like Chan it was uncanny. Why hadn’t he told you? What was he even doing with you? He had a wife, or at least a girlfriend or fiancee… He had a child… But he was going around with you? It was beginning to add up though… Why he always wanted to go over your house. Why he’d rather go to a hotel than to bring you to his own place. You felt absolutely sick.

“Have a good night!” The girl chimed cheerfully as you made your way back to your car, the light from inside the house that had illuminated the front yard faded until you were covered in darkness. You were devastated, you were heartbroken… You had never felt more humiliated in your life and all you wanted to do was go crawl underneath a rock and hide there.

///

The meeting with his ex wife the night before had stressed Chan out beyond belief. He couldn’t believe that after 8 years she wanted to fight for custody of Ella now. Her reasoning behind it would have been laughable if they hadn’t been so damn ridiculous. By the time he had gotten home though, Ella was already in bed and he was so tired from dealing with his ex that he had gone right to bed as well. By morning, Ella had already left for school, so he’d have to wait until he got off work and she got home from school to even talk to her about what her mother had said.

Now, he was only looking forward to seeing you. You were the only person at this point who could calm him down and bring him some semblance of peace, at least for the short amount of time that he got to be with you. “Hey, lovely.” He called to you when he caught you walking down the hall. Usually you’d smile and wave, you’d even run over to him sometimes if the hall was empty. This time you just shook your head before lowering it and walking right by him.

It was a shock to say the least, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst, although he couldn’t be 100% sure of what had happened that would cause you to be acting like this. Was it because of the hotel comment the day before? Was it because he wouldn’t let you come over to his house? It couldn’t be that though, he had talked to you about it. It had to be something more, but he couldn’t figure it out. You looked absolutely pissed, like you didn’t want anything to do with him.

“Y/N!” He called out your name now, jogging down the hall to catch up with you, but you didn’t even look up at him, and you sure as hell didn’t slow down. In fact, it seemed like you sped up, like you were trying to get away from him. “Hey… What… What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?” He lowered his voice but quickened his steps to keep up with you, trying to duck down just enough to get a view of your face, but every time he got close enough you’d look away.

“I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you. Whatever it was that you made me think we had, it’s over. I’d like it if you left me alone now.” You stated flatly, your arms tightening around the multitude of folders that you clutched to your chest. “I’m changing groups, I won’t be one of your staff anymore as well, so please, don’t bother me anymore.”

Something had happened, and it wasn’t something that could easily be fixed like Chan thought. It was worse, way worse. You had basically fired yourself from being his group's staff because of whatever happened. “Hold on!” His fingers wrapped around your upper arm, stopping you from going any further. “So you’re just… Breaking up with me? You’re not even going to tell me why!?” His voice cracked as it rose in pitch, his chest rising and falling heavily as the panic fully set in. “I fucking love you, Y/N… You can’t just do this to me and not tell me why.”

When you finally looked up, he could see your eyes were glistening, your bottom lashes bedazzled with twinkling tears that clung onto them. You were just as upset as he was. “Stop pretending, Christopher!” You croaked out, sniffling loudly once the words left your chapped lips. “I refuse to be the rebound chick that you think you can run to when your marriage is on the rocks. I won’t be strung along by you, not anymore.” You took a few deep, shaky breaths to compose yourself before you pulled your arm free of Chans hold. “Now, if you don’t mind… I have another group to meet. I have work to do. I do believe that you have some work to do as well.” You bowed your head to him before turning and walking away, leaving him more confused than he was before.

His marriage… It had fallen apart years ago when he had come home to find his wife in bed with another man while his daughter was fast asleep in the room across the hall. It had been disgusting, heartbreaking, it would have been his downfall if not for his daughter and the moral, mental, and emotional support of the guys. He wasn’t sure why it was being brought up, he didn’t even know how you had found out, but that same feeling of devastation that he had felt 8 years ago was flooding him once again.

The guys… They were the only ones who would be able to talk to you, they were the only ones who knew about the secret past that Chan was trying so hard to hide from you. Would they do something like that though? Would they hurt him like that? “Yo! What’s up?” Changbin said as he came up behind Chan, his arm draping over his shoulder. “You’re… crying? What happened?” The cheerful tone was immediately dropped, and even though Changbin was younger, he was in full protection mode.

“Y/N… She… She broke up with me…. She knows about Sana…” He gasped out the words, each of them getting caught in his throat, it felt like he was choking. “Somebody told her… Someone… They had to have told her! Who!?” He was shouting now, his sadness turning to anger in a matter of seconds. The look of confusion of Changbins face was enough for Chan to know that he had no idea what Chan was talking about, and that in itself proved his innocence. That left 6 more guys to question.

“Y-You know that none of us would do that to you… Why would we do that? You were happy!” Changbin quickly defended the others as well, seeing in Chans eyes that he was on the warpath and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out who had told you. “I… I do know she went to the studio last night after you left… She… She said something about your wallet but… Maybe she went to your house to drop it off and… and…-”

“Ella…” Chan muttered out the name, a loud groan leaving him as his head fell back. “I have to go… Will you be okay? Can you run practice for me?” Now he was in a hurry, a hurry to get home, to talk to you… He had so many things he had to do, he didn’t even know where to begin. Changbin nodded his head, patting Chans shoulder before taking a step back. Truthfully, Chan didn’t know what the hell he was going to do… But he knew he had to do something. He wasn’t going to lose you… He couldn’t.

///

“Sit. Now.” Chan said, not even giving his daughter time to fully come through the door before the words left his mouth. He had been sitting at the table, thinking over and over about how he’d go about bringing it up to her, but now that she was finally home, all of his thoughts had gone out the window and all he could feel was irritation. She rolled her eyes, dropping off her bag and kicking her shoes off like she did every day, heading in the direction of her bedroom. “Did you not hear me? I want to talk to you.”

“About what?” She snapped, whipping around to face him. “About the lady that showed up on our front porch last night?” Chans eyes widened, he didn’t even have to drag it out of her, she wasn’t a liar… and for that, he was proud, he had at least taught her one good thing. “Did she dump you? Well good… You don’t deserve to be happy. Not after what you did to mom…” After… what he did…? He was stunned into silence, his head cocked to the side as he tried to think about what he could have possibly done to make him the bad guy in all of this. “She told me all about it, don’t try to act like you’re so innocent.”

Those weren’t Ellas words, those were her mothers words and she was speaking them for her. “I tried so hard to protect your mother for some reason… So that you wouldn’t think badly of her… And this is what she does.” He mumbled, running his hand through his hair and sighing heavily. “Can you please sit? I really need to talk to you…” He stretched his legs under the table, pushing out the chair across from him and motioning to it with his head. He could see the reluctance, but she finally made her way over, dropping down into the chair, but not without an eye roll and a look of disgust. “I didn’t want to tell you the truth… I didn’t want you to see your mother as anything less than what she is… But I wasn’t the one who did anything. Your mother is the reason we’re divorced…”

“You’re a liar… She said that you’d lie…” Ella mumbled, her arms crossing over her chest as she glared at her father. “Just like you lied to that lady. She didn’t even know I existed! You kept me a secret from her… Why? Are you embarrassed of me? Are you ashamed of me?” The sulky teenage attitude subsided, and he could see that she wasn’t just angry, she was upset. He never meant for it to be like this, he didn’t even think that something like this would happen. It’s not like he planned on keeping his daughter hidden forever… He just didn’t want to spring it all on you at the beginning of the relationship.

“No! God, no… El… You are an amazing daughter, you’re smart and you’re funny… You’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever created. I’m so proud of you…” He whispered, and he could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. He should have told her these things a long time ago, maybe she wouldn’t be acting out, but it was too late, and now all he could do was try to fix things piece by piece. “I didn’t want to bring someone into your life unless I knew that it was serious… It’s one thing for me to be hurt… But I didn’t want you to potentially get close to her just for her to leave and hurt you too.” He swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath to prepare himself before continuing. “I divorced your mother… Because she cheated on me, Ella. Do you really think I would have gotten custody of you if it were the other way around? The man she married… That’s… That’s the guy… And they’re already divorced… And she’s already married again. She’s been married twice since the divorce, and I… I haven’t been with anyone until a couple months ago. Do you think that would be the case if I was the one who had screwed up?” He could see the gears turning in her mind as she thought about everything that he was saying, and he could see that it was all adding up. “Your mother wanted to meet up with me yesterday because she’s trying to get custody of you…”

Ellas eyes widened and her head shook fast. “No… I don’t… I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to live with her, dad.” The words were rushed out, full fledged panic written across her features. “Don’t let her take me… I want to stay with you… I’m sorry… I’m sorry I told the lady that you were having date night with mom. I’m sorry that I ruined it… I’m sorry… Please don’t let her take me.” She was crying now, absolutely bawling, and it broke his heart to see his daughter so upset.

He jumped out of his chair, running around to her side of the table and pulling her up into his arms. Right now, she wasn’t just a teenager with a bit of an attitude problem… She was his little girl, and he was going to protect her and he was going to keep her safe. He was going to fix everything, no matter what it took. “She’s not going to get you, she won’t win. You’re staying here with me… I promise.”

///

“Have you gotten a hold of her?” Ella asked, dropping down onto the couch beside her father. It had been weeks since the last time he had spoken to you, but he had seen you in the halls at the building every single day. No matter how many times he tried to stop you and explain everything, you’d just keep walking like you didn’t know him at all. Ella could see that it was breaking him, and she knew that it was her fault. “I’m really sorry, dad…” She mumbled.

Your picture was still his lockscreen, and every time a notification would pop up on his phone he would jump up, a single second of excitement and wishful thinking, only to be let down once he realized it was someone, anyone but you. “It’s okay… I’m gonna try to get some work done. Let me know when you get hungry, I’ll make us some dinner, yeah?” And she nodded slowly, waiting for Chan to get up and go into his little office before running to the front door and pulling on her shoes. If he wasn’t able to fix it, maybe she could.

The walk to the building wasn’t too far, and she knew that, for the most part, whenever her father went into his office it was so he could cry in private. That usually lasted a couple hours, and she was sure that she wouldn’t need too much time.

Everyone in the building knew her, they had heard so much about Chans daughter that she was looked at as an idol herself. They all welcomed her warmly, but she was on a mission. “Hi! Would you happen to know where an Y/L/N Y/N is? My dad sent me to make sure she got something.” She came up with it quickly, and no one seemed to question it either. They gave her the information just as fast and sent her on her way… It was far too easy… She’d have to talk to her dad about that.

The ride up the elevator gave her enough time to think about what she would say, or at least a little bit of what she’d say. Truth be told, she was nervous. She wanted things to go well for her fathers sake, but she knew that the trouble she had caused and what she did could have irreversible damage.

When the doors slid open, it was like fate had brought her here at this exact moment, because you were standing right outside the doors. “Oh… Uhm… I-I remember you…” You murmured, bowing your head to her before taking a step back. “I think you’re on the wrong floor though… Your father is a couple floors down.”

Ella shook her head, stepping out of the elevator, trying to look like she wasn’t a nervous wreck standing in front of you. “I’m here to talk to you.” She said, her head held high just to exemplify the false feeling of confidence that she was trying to give off. “Are you busy?”

“I’m very sorry if me being with your father created any problems. I’m not with him anymore though… And, with all due respect… I’m just trying to move on.”

“That’s the problem though!” Ella blurted out as you moved past her and stepped into the elevator, turning around quickly on her heel to face you, her hand pressed against the elevator door to keep it from closing. “Him and my mother aren’t together… They haven’t been together for 8 years. I… I was upset because… I didn’t understand what happened… I didn’t know why my parents weren’t together and… My mom lied and… And I’m sorry. My dad really loves you… And he wanted me to meet you… And he’s been crying every night because I ruined your relationship because I lied just like my mom and I’m… I’m really sorry, ma’am…”

She was once again crying, and you didn’t really know what to do, but it felt wrong to just stand there and watch her cry, so you hesitantly stepped out of the elevator and gave her the most awkward one armed hug. “It’s… It’s okay…” You murmured, and much to your surprise, she turned her body completely toward you and wrapped her arms around you. Whether there was a maternal bone in your body at all before this moment or not, you immediately felt the urge to comfort her, to make sure she was okay, to wipe her tears and tell her that everything would be fine. “Hey… Hey, let’s go to my office. We can get a drink and some tissues and then… I’ll take you home. Is that okay?”

Ella nodded slowly, her face scrunched up and her bottom lip pushed out. She really did look like her father. “Will you talk to him?” She asked weakly, and as much as you hated him… Now that you knew the truth… It felt like the right thing to do, so you hummed in agreement to her question, leading her down the hall to your little office and pushing the door open for her. “Y-You know… You’re still his main picture on his phone. He’s waiting for you to text him or call him or something… He misses you so much.”

You were sure that she didn’t mean to tell you so much, and you were very sure that Chan would be incredibly embarrassed if he found out that his daughter was telling you so much. “I’ll talk to him, I promise… Pinky promise.” You held out your hand, your pinky extended to her, and she quickly latched her finger around yours, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips.

“You are really pretty… He wasn’t lying… And you’re really nice too. I would be really mad at me if I were you…” She lowered her head, her entire body slouching forward as she sat in the chair across your desk. “Why aren’t you mad at me?” Her voice was below a whisper, her question genuine, and you didn’t really know how to answer it.

“Well…” You began, your fingers drumming against your lap as you leaned back in your chair. “I don’t blame you for what you did… You’re a child and… And your parents divorced. I’m sure that any child would be upset if they found out either of their parents was dating someone else, especially if the kid doesn’t understand why their parents divorced in the first place. You were protected from the truth… But it made you do something that you regret. It’s still not your fault though, it’s no one's fault.” You reached across your desk, your hand faced up for her, and she slowly placed her hand in yours, the smile from earlier returning to her face, but this time it was just a little bigger and it reached her eyes. “Let’s go see your dad, yeah?”

///

Chan had at some point cried himself to sleep while sitting in front of his computer, but the sound of a soft knock on the door had him jolting awake. “Dad?” Ellas voice came between the small crack in the door as she peeked inside, and he quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes as he got up from his chair, almost bringing his entire laptop with him since he forgot to take the headphones off. “I ordered dinner for us… It’s here.” She said between little giggles at the way he stumbled. It was nice to hear her laugh, he hadn’t heard it in a bit, not from anyone in the house. He wondered what had changed.

“You didn’t have to do that, I would have cooked for us…” He said somberly, but he knew that she was doing it as a favor for him. He was a wreck, it was visibly noticeable that he hadn’t had more than a few hours of sleep in the past two weeks, he had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess. He was a shell of the man that he once was when he had you, but he knew he had to get better, he wasn’t sure how he would do that, but it wasn’t fair to Ella to constantly be like this, it would only make her feel more guilty. “I’ll be right out… Thank you.” He said when she hovered in the doorway, and he watched her walk away. There was a bounce in her step, she hadn’t been this peppy in a while. He was genuinely curious and now he was rushing out of the little studio room so that he’d be able to sit down and talk to her, maybe he could find out what was going on.

“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend over.” She said from the kitchen. He was adamant that he had never heard her bring up a friend, especially not one that would come over and visit. Was it a boy? She never mentioned liking anyone at school… Was she too scared to talk to him about those kinds of things? He made a mental note to sit down and talk to her about it one day this week. “Are you coming?” She called out and he hummed in agreement, trudging out of the little room with his head hung just a little.

This wasn’t the first impression that he wanted one of his daughter's friends to have of him as her father. He wanted to look more respectable for the sake of Ellas reputation. It seemed like he didn’t really have a choice though, she was rushing him to come out, and he didn’t want to keep her and whoever she had over waiting. “I apologize, I wasn’t really told that you’d be coming over.” Chan began as he walked down the hall, and he completely froze when he saw just who his daughter had brought over.

“I don’t think anyone really knew I was coming over.” You said lightly, the warmest smile spreading across your face as you looked at him. He couldn’t say anything, he couldn’t find words, all he could manage to do was open his mouth and croak out sounds as salty tears pricked his eyes. “Is it… okay… that I’m here?” You asked when the silence lasted longer than you thought it would, and he nodded his head fervently, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie.

“It’s… It’s more than okay… I just… I don’t know why… I don’t mind it though.” He rambled, looking between you and Ella who was currently setting the table for three people instead of the usual two. “You’re… staying for dinner?” He questioned, and you gave him that adorable, heart stopping smile that had stopped him in the halls of the building all of those months ago, the smile that had pushed him over the edge and made him fall for you in the beginning.

“Yes she is.” Ella spoke up, clapping her hands together to get both of your attention. “Do you want me to eat in my room… So the two of you can talk? I’m sure you have a lot to talk about… I can leave you alone if you’d like.” But you shook your head, walking over to the table and playfully ruffling her hair before opening the takeout bag and pulling out the contents.

“I’d like it a whole lot if you stayed and ate with us… But if you want to eat in your room… If your dad says it’s okay… Then you can.” You sounded so… sweet, the way a mother would talk to her own daughter, and the craziest part was that Ella smiled at you before taking a seat at the table, she actually listened to you… There was no attitude that came alone with it. “Are you just going to stand there and look at the food, or are you going to join us in eating it?” You asked, bringing Chan out of his own thoughts and back into the room.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m coming…” Chan whispered, walking into the dining room and taking his usual seat, but the aura at the table was a lot different now. It’s like the whole room had gotten 10 times brighter, and no matter which way he looked he was met with a warm smile. He had so many questions, but he knew that he had all the time in the world to ask them, and regardless of the answer… He knew that things would be better now, all of the pieces were falling back into place, and the picture was more beautiful than he had ever imagined it to be.

~6 Months Later~

“You’re gonna absolutely crush this test, I know you will.” You stood at the stove, preparing breakfast as Ella sat at the table, her face buried in her text book to get as much last minute studying in before she had to go to school. “No matter what, I want you to remember that your dad and I are so proud of you and how hard you work. Okay? We love you.” Ella hummed softly, not even looking up from her book, but you could see that she was smiling, and that was enough of a response for you to know that she had heard you, that she was listening. You carefully placed her plate down beside her, lightly tapping the table to get her attention. “Please eat. Okay?”

Chan ran out of the bedroom, his eyes barely even opened, his shirt wrinkled and twisted and his hair sticking up in all different directions. “Did she leave yet?!” He asked rather loudly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking a few times before focusing in on his daughter who was looking up at him, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny. I wanted to give you a hug before you left.” He pouted, and she quickly got up out of her chair, rushing over to Chan and wrapping her arms around him. “You’ll do great. I-”

“No more speeches! You guys are going to make me cry!” Ella dramatically whined, pulling away from Chan and running back to the table to pack her things into her bag and then shoveling as much food into her mouth as she could before going to the front door. “Love you! I’ll see you later!” She mumbled with her mouth full of food, and before the two of you could say it back she was out the door.

Once the door was shut, Chan walked over to you, his arms wrapping around your from behind as he rested his chin against your shoulder. “Hey…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek that was dampened by tears that you hadn’t even realized had begun to fall. “What’s wrong, lovey?” He cooed, gently turning you around to face him, his head cocked to the side.

“I don’t know… I just… I’ve only been here for six months and… We’ve gotten so close and… She’ll be going off to college soon if that’s what she wants to do… But… I’m gonna miss her and the house is gonna be so empty and…” You pouted up at Chan who couldn’t help but find it adorable the way you were right now. It was the most heartwarming thing, to know that you loved his daughter so much already that you were crying at the thought of her leaving.

“Well… We have the house to ourselves for a couple of hours… We could watch a movie or something to take your mind off of being sad… Or… We could go have some fun… Surprise Ella with a brother or a sister when she comes home from college…” Your eyes widened at the suggestion, but your feet were already moving in the direction of the bedroom, that all too familiar tingly feeling building in your stomach. “We can watch a movie when we’re done… If you’re not too tired.”

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elusivecagedmockingbird · 1 month

Text

Untitled

[jungkook x reader]

"You wanna know about art? When the class president starts touching my face on darkened street corners, and talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal."

Or THE popular fuckboy in your campus suddenly signs up as the figure model to one of your extracurricular activities and starts showing his interest in you.

A/N: I'm not sure where I went with this. Thus, untitled. I'm not even sure where this falls in the tags. But, enjoy!

Jungkook is at odds with himself.

Part of him wants to leave and forget about this stupid idea. He doesn't know what compelled him to listen to Jin. What exactly does the old man know about dating anyway? As far as he knows, he's never seen him with the same girl, so maybe he should have reached out to Namjoon instead.

The other part is hyping himself up. In about a few minutes, you’ll be coming through those doors. Besides, it would be too late to back out now. He chugs his bottled water as if he were thirsty. Jungkook thinks he'll pass out from anxiety. If not that, then from how warm it is inside this garage turned makeshift studio.

He feels the beads of sweat trickle down his back and pits.

This is not good.

The class is about to start and he'll be stripping down to his boxers and he's all sweaty. Thinking about that uneventful possibility, makes him sweat more.

Fuck.

He notices someone walk towards the corner he has been hiding in. Judging by how good-looking his face is and the vintage clothing he wears, Jungkook surmises this must be the Senior organizing this art class. Taeyong? Taehyun?

Ah, Taehyung, he remembers.

"You're Jungkook, right?"

Jungkook only nods as a response. His dry throat keeps him from speaking, afraid he squeaks out a reply and embarrasses himself more.

Thankfully, the other man is kind enough to not assume his silence as being standoffish.

"Nervous, huh?" Taehyung smirks, but Jungkook doesn't feel like he's being provoked. Rather, it actually calms him—at least the idea that it must be a common occurrence for models to exude this much anxiety that it's the first question people assume.

"That obvious, huh?" A dry chuckle following. "Do all models get nervous on their first time?" Jungkook finally finds his voice. Albeit, a bit meek for someone with a strong commanding aura.

Taehyung smiles and nods. "More than you expect. Which is understandable. Jin hyung told me you're doing this to learn more about art?"

No, he isn't, he internally protests. He doesn't know what Jin told Taehyung, but the real reason he's here on a Sunday, as a supposed 'volunteer' model for a drawing class is because of you.

The rest, he let Jin fill it out.

But of course, he wouldn't divulge those. So, Jungkook clears his throat before responding with a meek 'yes' as he shoots his empty water bottle in the can, making a clanging noise. He smiles sheepishly at the circled crowd whose attention he caught. He cringes at how much he's going out of his way to act cool. He's never this way, and yet, he wants to make sure you witness him with his best foot forward today.

Jungkook sways on the balls on his feet, taking in the space when he sees you—just as you were hooking your bag in your chair.

Goddamn, you're pretty. He's watching you laugh with another girl stationed near your spot as you lay out your tools on your table.

"Ready when you are." Taehyung breaks him out of his trance, and he replies with a sheepish nod—pretending he wasn't caught staring at you.

Jungkook starts by taking off his shoes, then his leather jacket. He unbuttons his pants and the thought that you would be looking at his crotch makes him blush. He shamelessly imagines you and him as Jack and Rose in that sketching scene. But before he can pull his jeans down, a booming baritone voice hollers at him.

Taehyung hurries towards him. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook freezes at the sudden aggression. His mouth puckers open and close like a fish coming up for air, as he struggles to come up with a reply.

Taehyung tilts his head and assesses the young man with a pout. "Did Seokjin not tell you this isn't a nude class? We just need you to strip to your shirt and jeans," Taehyung clarifies in a whisper.

Embarrassment floods Jungkook and he sputters out an apology. He silently curses himself between nervous laughs and incoherent words of what seemed to be apologies. Shy doe eyes peeps at you and the confused and scandalized look painted on your face makes him want to get swallowed by the ground and never reappear in front of you ever again.

You must think he’s some kind of a creep or worse, a flasher. With a big exhale, he tries to set aside the embarrassment and go through this. It's already bad enough that his nerves and recent embarrassment made a sweat stain on his shirt.

Not long after, Jungkook stands in the middle of the circle of easels. It actually isn't bad, he thinks. Most of the time, he's staring at wood stands and the occasional heads peeking out of the canvas.

You're on his side, so he can only see you through his peripheral vision. Even so, he can already visualize the vein popping on your forehead when you concentrate—just one of the things he adores on your face.

That afternoon, Jungkook finds out he likes the thought of you paying this much attention and focus on him, instead of the other way around.

He holds his growing smile at bay.

The hour-long class went quicker than Jungkook wanted. He takes his time picking up his jacket and pretends to search for something in his bag as he waits for you to pack up. But, you never rise from your seat.

It takes Taehyung tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your world. "You still get tomorrow, Y/N," he hears Taehyung remind you before walking around the room, checking progress.

Jungkook didn't mean to eavesdrop more, but when you stood up and followed Taehyung, he couldn't help but tune in to your conversation.

"I need a little more time to fix a few edges. Can I just extend for a while? I'll clean up the supplies room." You plead, voice kept low as if you're making an illegal trade with Taehyung.

Jungkook hears the older man sigh and call your name softly. "You still have tomorrow to work on it, and the next few days. Plus, I can't suddenly ask the model to stay just for you."

You whine petulantly like a child and Jungkook wonders if he can make you whine under different situations. Perhaps, under hi—

"He can go. I just need—"

The moment he makes out your reply, Jungkook was quick to cut you off and offer his time. "I can stay for a while."

Both you and Taehyung turn your heads to face the man who looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but he might as well have been. Your glowered confused eyes stare into him. "I-if you want," he stutters, so he tries to salvage his image with an obviously feigned nonchalant shrug.

Taehyung holds back his laugh but the sudden expulsion of air from his nose wasn't amiss, earning a side eye from you.

"No need," you answer with finality. "You get paid by the hour, right? I can't pay you and—"

"You don't have to pay me. I'm offering." Jungkook internally winces at how quick he was in offering himself. But if he were being honest, he would stay in this shoddy garage all night, through the blazing summer heat, as long as it's time spent with you.

Is it a crime that he's quick to take an opportunity when it has presented itself?

He thinks abso-fucking-lutely not.

Your eyebrows furrow, the 'I wasn't done talking' death glare you directed at Jungkook has him shift awkwardly on his foot and look everywhere else but at you.

"Still, I'd get in trouble for requesting more time, anyway. Can't have other students think Taehyung here has favorites." You press and it chips a bit of his confidence. It was obvious you didn't want him to stay. If he keeps insisting, you might think he's creepy.

Jungkook didn't want to seem too pushy anyway, and so, lets out a defeated "Oh.." and nods. His round eyes making it easy to see his dismay as it curves downwards a little at the sides.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Taehyung intervenes. The older man was amused as he watched Jungkook flounder around you, he also knows how oblivious and dismissive you are of guys like Jungkook to a fault. And so, he helps.

Ah, young love, Taehyung muses. "Just make sure to clean up and lock up after." He tosses the keys to you, but you make no movement of catching it, letting the keys hit your chest and fall to the ground.

Now your glare is directed towards your sunbaenim. "On second thought, I'm wrapping it up for tonight then." You head towards your easel to pack up your stuff.

Taehyung sighs.

He tells Jungkook to wait a bit and pick up the keys as he follows after you, calling your name.

“Just take the guy's offer to help. He’s trying to learn more about art, too,” he whispers, arms crossing across his chest. "Isn't this the piece you're submitting with your application? I know that head of yours will run nonstop if you don't finish what you intended to do tonight." Taehyung nudges you with a smile and softly jabs his pointer finger to your temple, making you chuckle with a pout. You shoo his hand away from your face and he knows he got you to stay.

This Jungkook kid owes him, Taehyung thinks.

However, from where Jungkook stands, he sees you breaking out the cutest smile at Taehyung. His eyes even going bigger at what he believes is an affectionate touch to your face when Taehyung boops your forehead.

Is that even ethical or something, he wonders irately. Taehyung isn't much older but given that he's your sunbaenim, Jungkook thinks he shouldn't be doing that. Or even be standing close to you. He's currently throwing imaginary lasers at Taehyung's back when you both turn to him and he immediately unsquints his eyes.

"Jungkook, do you still want to stay?" Taehyung shouts at the young man.

Yes.

A hundred times yes. He's a lovesick loyal puppy and if you ask him to bark, he'll bark for you.

Jungkook nods enthusiastically and rushes closer to where you stand, eager to wedge himself between you and Taehyung.

"Jungkook," you sigh his name tiredly. "I really need you to stop moving your head. Is there something more interesting behind me?" The question was rhetorical, but you're starting to wonder what he keeps on staring at behind you that you turn your head, only to be greeted with a wall filled with hanged canvases.

You hear him mumble out a you with a smirk, but was quick to cover it up with a sorry. This guy think he was slick.

Jungkook turns his head to assume his supposed pose. His eyes still filled with mirth. And he lasts about four minutes before his head starts turning towards you. Again.

You throw your head forward with an exhausted groan. This was a mistake. You're growing more frustrated by the minute. Maybe you should call it a night.

Looking back up at your model, you tell him he can leave.

Jungkook breaks his stance then quickly poses as he quickly persuades you. "No, I'll stay still. Look," he promises and follows through quickly by holding the pose.

"No, I'm just really too tired for tonight. Thank you for staying a bit longer." You busy yourself by grabbing at your stuff, cleaning pencil shards here and there to keep the lurking unease.

You can't have a breakdown here again, you admonish yourself. And it's going to feel worse after, if Jungkook's here to see it happen. You keep your head down while your hands wipe the charcoal dust on the table.

You hear footsteps nearing you, and you pray to whoever listens that he's not actually coming closer. He calls your name, his voice close and soft. You hum in response, head still hung low, refusing to face him.

Jungkook sees you rubbing an eraser at a blank surface and purses his lips. He finally got the chance to spend time with you and he was hoping to break the ice and get closer to you, but he does this—he upset you and wasted your time. You're not gonna want to spend more time with him after this.

"I-I'm sorry. I really wanted to help. I can stay again tomorrow to make up for tonight," he offers. Everything about him screams eagerness and he must really be interested in art to be willing to stay in the garage-slash-studio during this Summer heat.

You feel the tingling pressure in your throat and your lips quiver. You clear your throat and will away the tears before it breaks through your paper wall.

"No. You did great, Jungkook. I'm just not feeling well tonight." Your voice was too soft, but at least it didn't break.

Jungkook walks past you and turns to face you, hands making contact with your shoulder. "Are you sick? I have some medicine in my bag," he offers. He retracts his hand and unzips his bag to take out whatever medicine he had stashed inside.

It's his genuine concern that does it for you. You suddenly sob and cover your face with your hands.

"Oh, Y/N, are you okay? Does something hurt?" He didn't expect this. Jungkook was taken aback and his worried eyes looked for signs of where you could have been hurt.

Your sobs turned to full-on bawling and Jungkook was quick to take you into his arms. He lets you cry and occasionally whispers assurances between your weeping despite not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears.

In that moment, you stood illuminated by harsh yellowish fluorescent lights like a Gustav Klimt painting on display. The A/C humming noise drowned out by your hiccups and his whispers.

You were the first to pull away. He didn't mean to, but the moment you separated from Jungkook and lowered your hands from your face, he laughed.

Offended at his reaction, you push him away and quickly gather your bag hanging on the chair.

"Wait," he calls for you as he fumbles to pick up the bag he let fall to the floor.

He calls your name but you decidedly ignore him, feet shuffling quickly to leave the garage.

Fucking ass, you think. You're mortified. You already dread tomorrow as your imagination runs wild. What if he tells his friends about your ugly crying? You think you don't care what frat guys think, but you still definitely don't want to be the talk of the campus. You've only transferred here last year and after being briefed by your friend on who to avoid, you made sure not to have a run in with guys like Jungkook.

This is exactly why you were holding everything in earlier. Every stereotype of frat guys being huge assholes behind the charming facade were true.

A flash of high school memories ambush you and you just want to get to your dorm and hide in your blankets. You'll just have to miss tomorrow's class, you plan.

You violently shrug when you feel a hand grip your wrist.

"Hey, will you wait," Jungkook pleads. You turn to face him and see him reach something in his pockets.

Fuck. He's not going to take a photo, isn't he?

You were ready to lunge at him, anything to prevent him from taking a snap at your post-bawl blotched face, when all of sudden, a soft cloth touched your face.

Jungkook chuckles at your startled face.

"You have charcoal smudged all over your face," he points out. His bunny teeth peeks through his curved lips and the sides of his eyes wrinkle from amusement.

"Oh." You visibly flinch when he uses his thumb to brush the apple of your cheeks.

"There," he smiles, eyes fixated on his finger caressing your skin.

"You know you really have pretty eyes."

If you were in a romantic movie, his line would have panned out well. But you're not, so cue the sound of glass breaking to signify a shattered moment.

To think, you bought his act. You thought, here's a deviant frat boy species. Maybe not all of them are only interested in girls and booze. You even thought this Jeon Jungkook isn't so bad.

Until he says that.

Breaking away and stepping back from him, you humorlessly laugh in disbelief.

"You're a fucking cliché, Jungkook. Does this babble usually work on chicks?" You take a look at him and he has the audacity to look unaware of how hokey the situation is.

"Wha—" Poor boy couldn't even finish his sentence, you thought.

"Y/N, I'm not following."

You were about to make a joke on flies flying straight to his agape mouth but you hold yourself back. Instead, you make a gesture of shaking your head as you force out another dry laugh. You look at him one last time and walk away from the frat boy once again.

You hear his footsteps follow you, along with calls of your name. "Did I say something wrong?"

You stop as you reach the threshold—you're almost out of the garage and out into the cold dark night, ready to rush into the safety of your dorm and away from sleazy college boys.

But something in you compels you to turn, and so you do. "Yes, Jungkook. You did." Your hands grip your bag tighter, feet taking a couple of steps back into the garage, to the shoddy light so he can see you.

"Did you really think this charming ‘oh-i’m-clueless act was going to drop panties? You wanna know about art?" You hurl the question; voice no longer shaky and unsure. "When the campus playboy starts touching my face on dimly lit spaces, and starts talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal." You roll your eyes at him before making your exit.

It takes a minute for Jungkook to get his body to move. And when he does, you're already a distance away. Almost gone from his sight.

This is the second time today that you rendered him immobile and speechless. Just what the fuck did he do?

Meanwhile, you cursed at Jeon Jungkook on your entire walk home. Fuck him and his round innocent eyes for throwing the bees and butterflies in your stomach into chaos.

You tell yourself you dodged a bullet and that was just a ploy for him to get into your pants. You should actually congratulate yourself for turning away one of the notorious womanizers. Your roommate would be proud of you.

Still, you couldn't deny the jolt you felt in your chest when he touched your face and spewed those cheesy lines about your eyes.

You grunt as you slam the door to your dorm.

"Damn. Who pissed you off?" Jihyo, your roommate stares at you across her table.

You heave a sigh of exhaustion and plop yourself on the carpeted floor. "Had a run in with a frat guy," you spit with a scowl. "You remember the guy you were talking about last week? Jungkook? He's the model for this week."

"Seriously? That's..." Jihyo's head tilted sideways as she looked for the right word, brows furrowing. "Out of character for him."

You raise your head and prop your arms to face your roommate. "Right? That's what I thought, but Taehyung said he was interested in learning art."

At this, Jihyo pauses while eating and guffaws. "Is he for real?"

You roll your eyes at no one in particular and rest your head on your palms as your other hand plucks at the carpet. "Nah, I'm pretty sure he was just there to pick up girls."

Jihyo squints at you, suddenly alert as she senses something you haven't told her yet.

"He hit on me," you start. Already growing flustered at the recollection of the afternoon. "You know those cheesy lines from romcoms, he actually used them on me." You went on detail by detail about what happened and ended your story with a shudder. "This is the first time I might dread going to the class."

"Yep, I see why he thinks he could get away with the cheesiest line," Jihyo murmurs. Apparently, during your story, Jihyo picked up her phone and started to stalk Jungkook's profile. "I mean shame it wasn't nude because have you seen this body?" She flips her phone so you can see her screen.

"What? That's not Jungkook." You stand from your spot and walk closer to Jihyo and snatch the phone. "This isn't Jungkook."

"What are you talking about? That’s literally his profile,” Jihyo takes her phone back, wanting to take another look if you’re looking at the same thing. “See, Kim Jongkook. He’s the notorious fuck boy, probably in all departments. Good thing is, he’s graduating this year.”

Oh, fuck.

>> Still Untitled

#jungkook #bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts fic

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lovebugism · 11 months

Note

stevie smut based on those boat photos is not a want, but a need

18+

Steve’s initial glimmers gold on your sun-kissed skin — a swirled S in the middle of a dainty chain.

Despite its simple statement, you know it must’ve cost him a fortune. That’s not to say he even noticed the small dent it made in his bank account, of course. You know he bought it for you without thinking twice. But to you, still a broke college student at heart, the tiny thing feels so much heavier.

Imposter syndrome creeps up your spine like the cold hand of a ghost.

Just yesterday, you were studying for finals, and now you’re on a yacht off the coast of Venice. Six months ago, you were living in a slum of a studio apartment on a top ramen only diet. Now you’re in Italy, with real gold around your neck, on a boat that wasn’t yours, drinking wine you didn’t pay for.

You know it’s all because of Steve just as much as you know he’s doing this for you because he loves you. You just can’t believe that it’s happening to you.

What did you do to deserve any of this? To deserve Steve? What could you possibly give him in return to show how grateful you are for all of it? What do you give him that he can’t already buy?

“What are you thinking about, hm?” the boy himself questions as he appears in front of the leather couch you’re lounging on. He holds two glasses in his hands, one full of whiskey and the other white wine. He hands the latter off to you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hum innocently in return. Your sundress falls to your lap when your knees bend to invite him next to you. His arm curls around your legs to pull them back over his khaki-clad lap when he sits down. His hand rests on your bare thigh.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he argues, squeezing softly at the plush skin — not enough to hurt you, but enough to make you giggle into your wine. “You’re doing the thinking face.”

“I am not doing the thinking face.”

“You so are,” he counters with a gentle grin and sparkling eyes. You didn’t think unbelievably wealthy guys could be as cute as he was. “What is it? Are you hungry?”

You shake your head against the pillow. “No. I’m good.”

“Do you feel okay? Are you seasick?”

His tone is soft with concern. He’s already got himself all worried.

Steve’s hand leaves your thigh to push his sunglasses to the top of his head, forcing his honey locks back in the process. A few ornery strands still hang over his forehead. His chocolate eyes, deeper than a thousand oceans, melt with concern. “Do you need me to call another boat? Should we go back to the hotel—”

Your giggling puts an end to his panicked rambling. He squints while you hide your smile with your wine glass. “What?” he lilts with a smile, still halfway worried that you’re coming down with sunstroke.

“Nothing,” you hum when the laughing fit ebbs like a low tide. You tilt your head to your shoulder and smile. “I just love you.”

You swear you see him sigh in relief.

“Oh, you’re just lovesick, huh? That it?”

The way he coos at you — sounding almost degrading even though you know he’s only joking — makes your thighs squeeze shut. His warm fingers are caught between them.

“Very,” you nod like you’re proud to be. Because you are.

You’re lucky to love a guy like Steve. Even luckier that he loves you back.

Wind whips through the collar of his white button-up as he props his elbow on the back of the couch, facing you more. The top of his shirt is unclasped to reveal the cinnamon scruff on his chest that he also sports on his unshaven jaw.

He’s too hot to smile so sweetly down at you.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, obviously insincere as he scrunches his nose. “Think I might’ve given you the lovebug…”

You shrug. “’S okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah… As long as you stay sick with it forever.”

Steve’s sculpted features melt as he gazes down at you. He goes kind like he’s about to tell you how stupid you are for even thinking he could be anything other than crazy for you.

Despite the strange angle, he begins to lean toward you, sitting his whiskey down on the glass table in the process. “Oh, honey, I’m gonna be sick over you for the rest of my life.”

“Ew,” you giggle at his wording, reaching for his stubbly cheek anyway. You scoot slightly over to accommodate his body.

Your mouth puckers for an innocent kiss that he’s more than happy to give you — one, two, then three of them, to be exact. The fourth one is far too languid to be called a peck, too wet and too full of tongue.

You sigh against him at the tenderness of it, like a first love or a last one.

Steve’s hand is still pressed between your warm thighs, still trapped between them lest he think about moving it. His other bends at the elbow to prop himself up. It’s not like he’s going anywhere anyway, not from where he’s squished between your body and the back of the couch — with your legs thrown over him and your free hand clutching his face to yours. The other is wrapped around his neck and still holding your wine.

You lick sinfully into his mouth, like a kitten to milk, just before you part from him.

“Wanna buy you a necklace, too,” you tell him, breathless and quiet and seemingly out of the blue.

A crooked smile quirks on the right side of his rosy mouth. He knows you can’t afford it. The thought is cute, anyway. “Yeah?”

You nod, bottom lip caught between your teeth as your hand curls around the base of his neck. You can feel the thrumming of his pulse against your thumb.

“Wanna put my initial here,” you confess lowly, glassy eyes never leaving his honeyed ones. “Want everyone to know you’re mine, too.”

“Too?” he echoes with a smile, too full of love to be smug. His hand twists between your thighs and moves like syrup beneath your dress. He cups your bikini-clad cunt and grins. “‘Cause you’re mine, huh? Is that it?”

You nod.

A moan leaves in a fragile sigh from your parted lips when his finger sneaks beneath the fabric. He rubs you, up and down one time, just to feel how wet you are and to smile when he finds you’re soaking.

“Always been,” you tell him through bated breaths.

“Always been.” He repeats it like a vow. When he leans down again, you think he’s going to kiss you. You’re heartbroken when his lips meet your warmed cheek.

You taste like lotion and sunshine, like new adventures and nostalgia.

“Let’s get you to a bed, yeah? So you can show me who I belong to.”

He says it like a courtesy, like he’s giving you an ounce of the power he normally keeps for himself. But you know your place. You know he’ll ruin you soon enough. You’ll forget your own name before you can make him repeat it for you.

You love it.

Steve rises off you and extends a hand to help you up, too. You trail happily behind him, knowing where he’s leading you — what he’s leading you to.

Your glasses sit abandoned beside one another, going warm beneath an orange sun.

—————

“God, honey. Fuck,” Steve swears.

His grunts mix with the sinful slapping of your thighs against his lap. His happy trail and trimmed bush are soaked with the slick you drip for him. He squeezes the plush of your hips to help guide you up and down over his cock.

“Takin’ my dick like a fuckin’ champ, baby. Like you were made for it, huh?”

You nod, slacked mouth and panting. Little whimpers spill from your swollen lips every time you move down over him, every time he hits the spongy spot deep within you that only he could ever reach. It feels like so many little strikes of purple lightning — too much to bear, but still not enough.

His golden initial sways above your breasts as your tits bounce in front of his face. He desperately wants a taste of you, to take your stiff nipple into his mouth, but he doesn’t want to take his eyes off you.

“You’re so pretty, honey, you know that?” he babbles, heavy eyes flitting back up to your fucked-out face. It’s hard to talk with your snug cunt squeezing him somehow tighter. His words spill through gritted teeth. “Pussy’s pretty, too. And so— fuck— so good for me. Shit, honey… ‘M gonna come if you keep riding me like this…”

You moan in a delicate cry at his admission. Pride swells in your chest to know you’re making your boy feel as good as you do.

One hand clutches the pillow beside his head while the other takes purchase on his neck, the place you’ve got a newfound adoration for. You don’t choke him, though. You’re too gentle for all that. But not so gentle that you don’t know how to kiss him breathless.

Your mouth engulfs his own, swallowing him whole and making him forget whose air he’s breathing.

His hands trail from your hips to your ass. He grips the fattiest part with wide, warm palms and spreads them apart. He imagines how his cock must look sinking into you, shining with your honey and his pearly pre-come. He imagines your fluttering cunt swiping against his heavy balls.

You hear him spank you before you feel it.

The smack comes just before the high heat that blooms across your right asscheek. “Steve,” you moan, unabashedly needy for him as ride him harder than you had been just before. The way he hit you felt like encouragement, rough but still tender.

The bed begins to rock beneath you like the yacht your man has put you on and the bright blue sea that carries the two of you.

Your wet cunt sucks his cock inside of you, taking him deeper and deeper even though the feeling of him so far within you borders on painful. Desperate and whining for him, you keep taking him like you were made to do it.

Because you were.

“Yeah, keep bouncing, honey. Doing so good for me,” he manages a fucked-out smile when low squelches start to fill the lavish studio. “Pussy’s perfect baby— god, fuck.”

He cuts himself off with a groan when you tighten around him, tossing his head back on the fluffy pillow that you grip for dear life.

“No pussy’s ever been this good for me, you know that? Always so good… How am I— shit— How am I ever supposed to stop fucking you, huh?”

“Don’t,” you squeak out. It’s the first intelligible thing you’ve said since you started riding him. You pout, scrunched browed and jutted lip, as your orgasm creeps up your sweat-slick spine. “Don’t want you to ever stop fucking me.”

Steve nearly bursts right then.

He doesn’t mean to take over — to hold your hips still and prop you above him while he plants his feet on the mattress. He doesn’t mean to fuck up into you, but he’s gone just as stupid as you have. His cock twitches and jerks within your snug pussy, and he wants so desperately to come. More than that, he wants to make you come like he knows you’re bound to.

“Yeah? You love my dick, don’t you?” he laughs through bated breaths — like he isn’t rightfully dumb over your pussy. “You always get so slutty for it.”

You don’t know if you want to protest or agree with him. All you do is moan as your fingers dig into his furry chest. The wet slap of his balls against your ass entwines with your cries and his taunts.

“Yeah, you do,” Steve coos, jaw clenched and brows furrowed. He still talks so softly to you like he isn’t fucking you for all you’re worth. “Go ahead, honey, cream on my dick. Make a mess for me… Gonna sit you on my face after, okay? I bet you’ll taste so sweet for me when I’m done with you.”

Your mouth falls in a silent cry. Your pussy spasms around him at the thought of his mouth between your legs, slurping at your honey and his come that leaks from your gaping hole.

“Get yourself there for me, baby,” he commands in a gentle murmur. “Take this dick. Take what you’re given—”

And just like always, you do.

You orgasm on his stiff cock a second later — not coming, but gushing. His heavy cock jerks inside you right after, spitting several warm loads into your trembling cunt.

His wide hands find purchase on your sweat-slick back, holding you to his scruffy chest while his hips buck against you, pushing his dick as far as you’ll take him. And, like the good girl you are, you take him all the way.

You take everything he gives you — come, orgasms, and gold necklaces alike.

When your senses return and your heavy breaths go even, Steve feels you smile against his neck. He thinks he must have fucked you so sufficiently stupid that all you can do is grin through the rippling aftershocks of your high.

That’s only half true.

You just know that he’s worked up an appetite after having fucked you so ardently. And you figure he won’t need a piece of jewelry with your initial on it when he’s wearing your come on his chin.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fic #stevie drabble #st drabbles

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hanasnx · 5 months

Text

❝ mercury: retrograde. ❞

── batman x reader

MINORS DNI 18+ WORD COUNT: 2k SUMMARY: after your failed attempt to recover the last pieces of joker present in the victims of his diseased blood donation, you discover a mystery about the batman in both body and spirit. NOTES: during the events of batman: arkham knight, when harley quinn tries to reclaim the joker-ified victims from panessa studios. the reader is somewhat in the place of harley quinn WARNINGS: f!reader | explicit sexual content | implied creampie | unprotected sex | established relationship: enemies to lovers | size difference | slapping (m receiving) | previous relationship with joker is implied.

You stir at the feeling of strong grips handling your waist, the heavy haze of unconsciousness fading as you’re lifted from the ground. Memories gradually return with each inch gained, and your eyelids flutter open, the dull light stinging your gaze. The motion of you being punctually raised to your feet only to be thrown over the shoulder of none other than the BATMAN is jarring to say the very least. “Hey. Hey!” you interject when you come to, your mouth finally catching up with your brain as your stomach makes contact with his armored shoulder, and the wind is knocked from your lungs.

“Take Charisma back to the cells. I’ll catch up.” he orders the newest Boy Wonder. A man clad in red and green holds Johnny Charisma in a similar fashion to your position, mirroring you.

Robin nods, and sees himself out. “Don’t take too long.” he jests, and if you were paying more attention you would’ve rolled your eyes. Instead, you’re much too busy running your mouth with any kind of noise, kicking your feet, and banging your fists against the Bat’s lower back. With each blow, the cape bounces back to brush your angry hands, and in a brief fascination you clutch onto the foreign material with the intent to rip it. Of course, it doesn’t, and you consider the possibility of tearing into it with your teeth as you would duct tape. To calm your writhing legs, he straps an arm around your thighs, lumbering along with you on his shoulder as if you simply weren’t there. It’s dizzying being all the way up here, the Bat towers over most everyone… it’s that or all the blood that’s rushed to your head. He enters a different room than where Robin went, and momentarily you entertain the fact he seeks to interrogate you. But what could you possibly know that the Bat wants? It was always Joker with the big ideas. Now that he’s gone, you’ve been trying replace him as the Head Guy but it’s just not the same.

So you thrash. You move your body in any way you can think of, anything to loosen his vice-like grasp on you, but he is infallible. Taking you deeper into this abandoned set in Panessa Studios. “Put me down—! Hey! Are you listening to me? I said, put- me- down— Oh!” Your commands are interrupted by your own squeak of surprise as he unceremoniously drops you, landing on your feet with a bounce as your countenance shifts to one of endearing disbelief. You rally, skewing your features to convey indignity. “How dare you?” you scold, but it’s grossly performative. You raise your hand, punctuating your disdain for him with a sharp slap of admonishment to his cheek. It reverberates in this empty room, and his neck has craned from the force. Perhaps out of respect. You’ve seen this freak throw grown men across the room, you’re sure he feels nothing but a sting on his skin. So you give him another one, smacking him to pivot him to the other side.

“Touching a lady like that! You should know better! I’m wearing a skirt! Anyone could’ve seen! What would my men think of their boss if they’ve seen her panties? Huh? Do you have any idea what it takes to be a leader in this economy?” With each passing phrase, your voice heightens shriller, the emotion of the scene getting to you, but he is unaffected. Slowly, he faces you, opening his eyes to meet your vindictive gaze. “You—! You’re the one that killed him, if he were still alive I wouldn’t have to be in this mess—“ your tone cracks at the mention of the Joker, and a desperate sort of need takes you over. You throw yourself onto the statuesque vigilant who remains expressionless as you clutch onto whatever purchase his tight armor possesses, climbing up his chest to his collar.

Your instability is cause for your sudden shift in depression and wrath; one second you’re clinging onto him, shaking him (or more accurately, shaking yourself using him and his immovable body), and the next you’re pinching your features into a frown and weakly banging your fists against his chest for round two. They glance off, and he stares down at you. It takes you an inappropriate amount of time to question how long he’s been letting you do this to him, until he side-steps you. Comically, you fall forward from the loss of balance, the lack of his beam-like support causing you to stumble and clumsily regain your footing to round on him.

“Enough.” he commands, and his recognizably annoyed tone sets your lips into a thin line. “Tell me what you know.” Inviting himself into your space, this dark towering figure stoops to your level, forcing you to arch back as he imposes.

You audibly gulp, scanning his form. He notes that. That scares you. So you attempt to throw him off the trail, taking a step back so you have room to straighten, cross your arms, and stick your nose in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you insist, and wiggle your shoulders, peeking at him through your closed eyes to gauge his reaction. You don’t have time to react before his huge glove has enclosed in the puffy fabric of your sleeve, yanking you back to him. Instinctively, you reach out, bracing against his chest so you won’t trip again. A furtive glance is paid to your hand’s position on his emblem, and when you meet his gaze he’s already looking at yours.

“You’re here for the patients. You think they’ve got the potential to replace him, don’t you?” Just like that, he ruins the moment with his big mouth.

You scowl, lifting yourself on your toes as if that’ll intimidate him. “They are him!”

“He’s dead!” The anger behind his words admits how resentful he is that you won’t deal with the Joker’s death.

“Because of you!”

“Don’t be stupid.” An alarming shift in his tone conveys an uncharacteristic smugness, one that creases your brow in bewilderment because of how likely the phrase sounded like Batman was about to laugh at you. “How long are you going to live in that fantasy?”

“I—” you begin, but a flash catches you off-guard. Untensing, you search his eyes for that flash again. A glint. A glimpse of that familiar viridian. You’ve looked into Batman’s eyes countless times, you know his irises are colored blue. But for one single second, you could’ve sworn you saw a little of J in there. As if you weren’t in control of your own body, you take a step forward. A great sense of relief overcoming you at the sight of green blooming faithfully in Batman’s eyes. “It’s you…” you muse in wonder, your gentle hands coming to cup his rough face, your fingertips grazing the helmet’s smooth material.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you stunned the Bat. But he doesn’t let it last long, growling in offense as he uses your abused top to toss you against a prop wall. You clatter against the hollow wood, meagerly propped up by the 2x4s on the other side. His massive fist nails the surface right by your head, and you’re too in awe to flinch.

“Tell me what I want to know!” The Batman orders, and you know exactly what to tell him. You pounce on him, draping your body all over his armor as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” you exclaim. You had no idea a little taste of Joker blood had infiltrated the Big Bad Bat. Here he is, right in front of you again. Old feelings come flooding back as your lips peck at whatever is in reach, punctuated with audible “muahs.”

He recoils, but your grip only tightens, clinging onto him until he pries you off by his hands on your wrists.

“Oh, baby,” you croon, bending over to show him your cleavage as you wiggle it for him. “Why you gotta make me wait, huh? Didn’t you miss me too?” Your wrists, suspended in mid-air, make your arousal run impossibly deeper. Firmly enclosed in his big hands, restrained, you could jump out of your own skin. You tilt your head at him as he observes you, as unperturbed as ever, and you wonder if he’s fighting off the Joker-persona that takes over. “You know you want it…” you exhale, lusty and provocative. “I know you do. Whether you’re the Bat or the Joke I know you want me.” you test. Your tongue licks at the lipstick on your lips. “Don’t worry,” you whisper, desperate. “I won’t tell anyone.”

This is not the first time he’s been tempted by you, yet he finds it more difficult than the last to refuse you. He allows you to take a step closer. “Fuck it.” he says, and you squeal with delight as he scoops you up, pinning you back to the wall. You slam your lips to his, and he eagerly accepts you. The kind of kiss that’s fucking sloppy. Disgusting. As reserved and formal as he is in kissing you, you’re far too disorderly for that. All tongue, you thrust it out between your lips to shove it into his, enthusiastic in playing with his. Surprisingly, he accepts it but doesn’t match your energy as you tongue-fuck his mouth. You trace it over all the wrong places, giddy in the notion you know what the inside of Batman’s mouth feels like. You line it over his his teeth until you’re sure you could recreate his dental print from memory.

It all happens so fast. One second you’re making out, sucking on his tongue like it’s his cock, the next his utility belt is on the floor and his actual cock is rearranging your insides. He’s a lot bigger than your old boss.

“Fuck, fuck! Right there, right there!” you mewl your praises, wet pussy gratefully slurping up his every inch. It’s unfathomable how long you’ve gone without proper dick, and something about the way he’s bullying his way into you hits the spot. Everything from the angle of fucking you against this wall, to the gruff and animalistic exhales he expels with each thrust has your pretty eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Oh, my fucking God! Who knew you could fuck like this? If I’d’ve known you feel this good I would’ve hopped on your bat-cock years ago.” Mindless, stupid ramblings of a thankful whore, reeling from his thick fingers that leave bruises in the flesh of your thighs. He’s relatively quiet, letting you do the talking, perhaps he already regrets his decision to screw you but it’s too late now. Whatever implication this proves he’s not stopping to examine the morality of it, chasing his high and using your body to do it.

The familiar tremor in your thighs lets you know how close you really are, clawing at his armor. His hand cups your jaw, tucking your chin into the web of his thumb, pinching your cheeks together a bit as he adjusts you to look at him. “You wanna finish?” he asks through the grit in his teeth, and you nod furiously, stifled by his hold.

“Yes. Yes, baby, I wanna finish. I wanna cum.” you whine, seeking to please him.

“Promise to be good?”

A stinging thrill shoots up your spine originating from your sex. You had no idea he was into that kind of stuff, nor implementing it. You go crazy for it. Once again, you nod furiously. Whatever that definition entailed— to be good— you would do it. Anything for him. “I promise, I promise. I promise to be good, I promise.”

You find out later being good entails being thrown into a cell to await policy recovery. Oh, but it was fucking worth it.

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inamagicalhallucination · 1 year

Text

pm dazai time traveling and meeting the ada and them being freaked out by him and him scaring them and thinking theyre all idiots for trusting him and it all being angsty and shit is a very interesting take

but personally, i think if pm dazai ever time traveled to meet the ada, they would, without much thought, say or do something that shows that they genuinely like him and he would probably just pass out because he cant handle genuine positive emotions directed at him (see bsd wan)

kunikida: here have this drink so you don’t pass out and die from dehydration you bastard

pm dazai: ... why did you get me this one?

kunikida: it’s ur favorite?????

pm dazai: oh *passes out*

pm dazai: so... you all think im ur friend

kenji: you are our friend !! we do all sorts of fun stuff together !! *thinking about all the times dazai helped him bring a cow into the office*

pm dazai: huh *internally screaming*

pm dazai: *vaguely shifts*

yosano: oh are your bandages itchy? i have some spare if you wanna go and change them?

pm dazai: *dies but not in the way he wants to*

pm dazai: im a demon; human emotions don’t mean much to me

ranpo: i’ve seen you cry over studio ghibli films, you’re as human as they get

pm dazai: oh

pm dazai: you just accepted me into your agency?

fukuzawa, patting his head: of course

pm dazai: *just fucking drops to the ground*

pm dazai:

Jun'ichiro: oh hey, here, naomi and i thought you might be bored so we set up a bunch of movies to watch or games for you to play :)

pm dazai, on the verge of passing out, lightheaded: wh-what

naomi: yeah! we picked all the ones we thought you’d like :))

pm dazai: *falling to the ground*

kyoka: here

pm dazai, taking the crepe: what’s this

kyoka: i went to get some and thought you’d enjoy this flavor.

pm dazai: *chokes and nods*

pm dazai: why do you like me so much

atsushi: there’s lots of reasons to like you mr. dazai! maybe it’s because you always take care of me. maybe it’s because you’re funny. maybe it’s because you were the first human i ever met. it’s hard to pinpoint

pm dazai: *cries and passes out*

bonus:

pm dazai, staring at the grave in front of him:

atsushi: i didn’t know your friend, mr. dazai, but i think he would’ve been very proud over how much you’ve tried, and how much you’ve succeeded in being a good person

pm dazai: im not a good person. even if future me has deluded you all to think-

atsushi: i think mr. dazai is a really good person. he may have done bad things before, but i think putting in the effort to change and be better is amazing. you help people through the agency, and you prove you’re a good person. maybe you’re not perfect, but we all love you because you’re you mr dazai :)

i didn’t include haruno or katai because i was running out of brain thoughts sorry

anyway since atsushi was horrifically abused his entire life, i thought it’d be interesting to have him call dazai the first human he met, because he’d be the first kind and real person he’d have met - since the orphanage was filled with people who tormented him, they’re registered in his head for the inhumane treatment they put him through if that all makes sense

anyway

i made a few people mention dazai being human since he has that whole thing of thinking he’s not

yeah anyway these are just my two cents feel free to add on or comment

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berryhobii · 7 months

Note

Hi!! I'm so happy you are back queen! I hope you are healthy and happy!

Since you accept requests, could you do husband!namjoon x a black reader where she has gained some happy weight and she is feeling herself (and so is he 😉)

Thanks so much for your request and kind words! I was actually a little stumped writing this. I wrote multiple ideas but they all sounded a little weird. I hope I did it justice though! This kind of turned into just a fluffy, intimate thing with sweet husband Namjoon. Please let me know if you don’t like it🩵🩵

Namjoon softly closed the door behind him, letting out a groan as he sat down on the little stool by the door. It was your idea after seeing how much Namjoon struggled to take off his shoes when he came home. There was just so much of him and it actually surprised you how bad he was at moving his body sometimes. When you met him, he was so poised and put together. You’d never think he was that clumsy until he almost tipped the table over on your first date. You could still remember how bashful and shy he looked as he tried to pick up all of the utensils he dropped, apologies falling from his lips. Your laugh was bright as you crouched down to help him and capturing his heart with a few words.

“Who put that table there, huh? Do you think they’ll give us free refills if we threaten to sue for improper placement of their property?”

Unlike most people he’s encountered, you never gave him a hard time about his bad equilibrium and tendency to break things. You’d just give him a kiss and help him figure out a way to prevent it from happening again. He knew his faults and even he thought they were funny but you never made him feel bad about it. You just dusted him off and made him a snack. You were just so amazing and nurturing. He loved you so much.

His friends tried to force him out of the studio hours ago but he was too absorbed in finishing his work that he just couldn’t leave. Meaningless, he knew, since he still didn’t complete the track once 1AM rolled around. What was the point? But his stubbornness and need for perfection wouldn’t allow him to turn off his computer. Not until he could barely keep his eyes open anymore.

He opened the fridge, looking around to find a set of Tupperware containers that were placed right at the front. A smile graced his features as he pulled out the containers of pasta and steak with vegetables. While he was smiling, a feeling of guilt filled his heart as he warmed up the food. He knew the person that cooked it was probably sleeping, not able to wait up for him any longer.

He honestly felt horrible knowing this was yet another night you had fallen asleep without him by your side. You already knew of his career as a producer when you met him. You knew there would be moment where you two wouldn’t be together because of his deadlines. Really, you understood. He had a lot of pressure on his shoulders—producing for idol groups, dramas, even kids shows. Effort was what you were looking for and he certainly put that in; fancy dates, effective communication, intimacy. Namjoon gave you all of that. He was the best thing that could have happened to you and vice versa.

He almost wished he didn’t have such a demanding job so that he could spend more time with you. He loved what he did but he loved you more. He needed to get it together.

He tried not to make too much noise as he heated up his food, failing when he slammed the microwave too hard and then almost tore the dishwasher drawer off trying to pull it out.

“Angel?”

He turned around to see you standing there, his heart clenching at the beautiful sight. Your hair tied up in a scarf, eyes closed as you rubbed the drowsiness away. You wore one of his shirts, the familiar faded picture of Aaliyah on the front . No pants, of course. You hated sleeping in pants because they made your legs feel restricted. Namjoon could almost see a peek of your light blue underwear. Goodness, was now the time to get a boner?

“Baby. Did I wake you?”

You yawned and shook your head. “No. I couldn’t really sleep. I just noticed the light was on.”

He hummed, not really knowing what to say. You approached him, wrapping your arms around his body to snuggle into his chest. His hands went to your waist, squeezing at the plush softness. He has been noticing you’ve been getting just the tiniest bit thicker lately. Of course, he loved you regardless but there’s just something about the recent change that just made his heart swell.

“Sorry. I’ll join you in bed soon.”

You rubbed your cheek on his collarbone, his heart fluttering at the little kisses you placed there as well. “It’s fine, angel. I’ll stay with you.”

And you did, sitting on his lap as he ate, his chewing and breathing lulling you almost back to sleep.

At the sound of him placing his utensils down, you perked up, sliding off his lap to let him put his dishes in the sink. He pouted a little at the lack of your warmth and weight sitting on his lap but he figured you two would be in bed soon. He’d have you wrapped up in his arms.

After he rinsed out his dish, he turned back around to face you, smiling endearingly at how you swayed slightly on your feet.

“Come on baby. Let’s get to bed.” He crouched down a little bit to grab the back of your thighs, picking you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, arms going around his neck and your head on his shoulder. He patted you twice on the bottom before carrying you to your shared bedroom.

He laid you down on your side of the bed and then tried to stand but your arms held onto him, a whine coming from you.

He breathed out a little laugh. “Let me go shower, baby. I’ll be right back.”

You sighed but relented. While you loved your husband and wanted to cuddle him right now, you hated outside clothes on the furniture even more. Releasing him, he gave you a peck on your forehead before standing to his feet. A little part of him wanted to forgo a shower to dive between your thick thighs. You were laid out so prettily for him, practically begging for his affection. Damn, he missed you.

Ignoring the stirring in his pants, he went to take a shower. Extra cold to ease some of the tension.

Entering the bedroom again, he found you dozing off. Your shirt had fully ridden up your body, showing your soft tummy and the blue cotton underwear you wore. The waistband slightly dug into your love handles and the pudge of your tummy. You’ve definitely filled out over the past couple of years. Happy weight, you called it when he commented on how your thighs and ass looked amazing in a pair of jeans you wore some days ago. It actually made him feel really good that you were so settled and secure in your relationship. Like he was doing something right.

Sensing him approaching, you cracked open your eyes, holding out your arms to allow him into your embrace. He smiled, climbing into bed and taking his place on your chest. Sighing in content, he snuggled into your soft breasts, finally feeling his body relax fully.

Your fingers rubbed at his upper back, traveling up the nape of his neck to scratch at his hair.

“Sorry I’ve been coming home late.”

“It’s okay. I just know you’ll create a wonderful OST for that drama. I better cry everytime I hear it.”

He chuckled. “You cried at that song I made for a children’s cartoon.”

You shrugged one shoulder, scratching at that magic spot that made him let out a little grunt. “I was proud of you. I always am.”

Those words almost made him cry. All he wanted was to make you proud, to be someone you could rely on. And he knew he was failing a little at being an active husband but that would change. He’d do anything for you, anything for your happiness.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.”

His head lifted off your chest to look into your sleepy eyes, a little smile gracing your face that he reciprocated, his dimple popping in his cheek. You poked it and then booped him on the nose.

“Now, I’ve been feeling your hard on on my leg for a little while. Why don’t you do something about it?”

That was all the signal he needed.

Namjoon sighed as he buried his face further into your breasts, an overwhelming need to suck on the dusty brown nipples washing over him. “Thank god. I’ve been hard since you walked into the kitchen.”

“Mmm, well make love to me, angel.”

“I’ll take care of you, baby.” He lifted up, pulling your shirt up and bringing it to your mouth. You opened her mouth to bite down on the fabric. “Good girl.” You whined at the praise, arousal immediately soaking your already wet panties.

Namjoon sat up on his knees, hungry eyes taking in the beauty that was you. Gripping your panties, he pulled them down your legs, thighs opening to invite him in. It feels like ages since he’s seen your pussy; neatly trimmed and puffy, already glistening with arousal.

“You haven’t been touching this, have you?” You shook your head, flinching when his fingers lightly tapped your clit. He hummed and smiled. “Good. Because only I can touch this, isn’t that right?” He moved to remove the shirt from your teeth, a low moan coming from you.

“Yes, angel. Only you.”

Good. His fingers pressed a little harder to your clit, a sigh falling from your lips. Adjusting himself so that he was laying on his stomach between your legs, his mouth ghosted over your slick cunt, tongue darting out to lick a stripe up your pussy. He moaned at the taste, so familiar, so delicious, so you.

“You taste so good, baby.” He dove in, slurping up all the wetness you’d give him. You moaned as he sucked harshly on your clit, pleasure sparking up your back. Your thighs tried to shut but his shoulders held them open, your hands buried in the pillow behind your head.

“Ah! Angel, more.” You begged.

Two fingers buried themselves to the knuckle, a gasp leaving you throat. He adjusted himself so he could comfortably finger your, mouth still sucking and licking on your clit. The tip of his tongue flicked all over the swollen nub, your back arching and toes curling at the assault. One of your hands came down to bury in his hair, hips bucking into his mouth and pleasure igniting every nerve in your body.

“Angel….I’m gonna cum…” you breathed out, lungs struggling to pull in oxygen.

He smirked against your core, pulling back slightly to look up at your face; your eyes were closed, lip pulled between you teeth as you humped his face to bring yourself closer to orgasm. You were positively gorgeous. Next to your smiling face, the face you made when you were raptured by pleasure was his favorite look on you.

His fingers crooked harder against that spot inside of you. “Cum, baby. All over my tongue.”

That was all it took before black spots clouded your vision, orgasm washing your body. The feeling settling in your bones as your husband continued to lap at your clit to guide you through.

Once your orgasm slowly ebbed away, vision clearing and chest heaving, your eyes met your husband’s. He was wiping your arousal from his mouth, hand glistening with your juices. Dropping your mouth, you stuck your tongue out lewdly.

Namjoon groaned. “Fuck. You’re such a good girl.” He stuck his fingers in your mouth, your tongue and mouth sucking your juices off them. He pressed slightly on your tongue, loving how pliant and submissive you looked.

Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he moved to grab the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head and revealing his toned form to your starving eyes. You reached out to lightly trail the tips of your stiletto nails up up and abs. Totally yummy.

You motioned towards him with a beckoning finger, lip pulled between your teeth. “Come on, angel. Fuck me back to sleep.”

He could already put together the words of his resignation letter because he would happily quit his job to dick you down every day.

He pulled his boxers off, cock slapping against his abdomen. You bit your lip at the sight; his cock was long and thick, mushroom tip shiny with precum. You wanted it down your throat but that could wait until the morning.

Flipping over your belly, you took a pillow to place it under your hips to keep your ass lifted and yourself comfortable. You arched a little, poking your ass out and the sight was enough to make him feel like cumming already.

Both of his hands smoothed over your ass, slapping the fat and watching it ripple. “I love you so much.”

You hummed, turning your head to look behind you, sending your husband a smile. You loved him too. With everything you had.

“I love you too. Now, fuck me please. Chop chop.”

He playfully rolled his eyes but obeyed. He was tired of holding out anyway. Grabbing his cock with one hand and pumping hand, his other pushing one of your ass cheeks up to get a better view of your clenching hole.

He slowly pushed inside of your warm cunt, biting his lip hard enough to bleed at the wetness. You lightly moaned as he stretched your walls. It’s been a while since you two have been able to have soft sex like this. Quickies in the shower and impromptu head had been your go to lately. It was nice to be able to have these sweet moments of intimacy with him though.

His hips met your ass, letting out a shaky breath. What the hell…..? Has it really been that long? Your pussy felt absolutely heavenly. He was ready to blow his load already. He prided himself on his ability to satisfy you. Over the years, he’s gotten to know your body, able to get to you to where you needed to be in record time. He’s never let you walk off without at least 2 orgasms.

But with the way you were clenching around him, he was starting to think that streak was about to be broken.

Good thing you were just as desperate as him.

“Go angel, I’m already close.”

Puffing out a breath of air, he began moving his hips back and forth, making sure to press his entire length into your walls. This position allowed him to reach deep inside of you, his tip rubbing right up against your sweet spot.

“Ah fuck, you feel so good baby.”

“Mmmmm….you’re so deep.” You sighed, relaxing as gentle pleasure cascaded across your body. Everything just felt heightened, weightless, and so intimate.

Namjoon’s hips sped up just a little, eyes focused on how your ass and love handles jiggled with each push. He couldn’t help but deliver a sharp slap to one of your cheeks, your hips jumping at the small sting of pain.

“I’m cumming, angel.”

He leaned down to place a kiss to your shoulder. Your head turned to capture his lips, sighing in content. “Go ahead.”

This orgasm was tender. It settled in your muscles and vibrated all the way to your toes.

Your pulsing walls also brought him to his release, his hips pressing all the way into you, cum filling you.

Namjoon inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before slowly pulling out of you.

You stretched your body, groaning as tiredness seeped into your bones.

“I’m sleepy.” You yawned. Namjoon smiled down at you, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder and inhaling your soap and lotion.

“Me too. Let’s get you cleaned up first though.” He climbed off the bed, grabbing his boxers to put them back on.

You rolled over on your side, throwing your arm up. “Carry me.”

After getting cleaned up and situated back in bed, you were inches away from slipping into dreamland. Warm, snuggled up to your husband and a post orgasmic haze settled over you, you were about to sleep harder than you did after Thanksgiving.

His hand rubbed on your ass, not sexually but in a soothing and tactile way. “Baby?” He called. He was also tired but he wanted to ask you something. All he got from you was a hum that let him know you were listening. “I love you.”

You lightly kissed his chest, rubbing a hand up his belly. “Love you too. Now sleep. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why? What’s tomorrow?” Had he forgotten something? It wasn’t your anniversary…..was it? No. Were his parents visiting? Now he was overthinking.

“You’re not going to work.”

“I’m not?”

“Nope. We’re going to have sex on every surface of this apartment. I need you well rested. Good night.”

Oh. Oh. OH.

Yeah, screw that job. He could take some vacation time.

#bts #bts smut #bts x black reader #namjoon smut #askberryhobii

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flowerhrt · 1 year

Text

the end of love | daisy jones.

pairing: daisy jones x fem!reader

summary: two weeks after your break up, daisy decides to confront you and ask what's wrong.

warnings: it's the 70s, internalized homophobia, eddie being a bit of a dick, daisy is clean and the band is still together, reader is a lesbian.

a/n: i interpret daisy as a lesbian who deals with compulsive heterosexuality.

word count: 2.4k

breathe in. breathe out. it's just one song. record it all in one go, ignore billy's stupid complaints, and then go home.

well, what used to be home.

“daisy, you ready to go?” she heard teddy ask from the other side of the recording booth. “yeah, i'm fine. let's get this over with.” the redhead said before taking a sip of the glass of cold water she had next to her. she closed her eyes as she felt the liquid make its way through her throat.

breathe in. breathe out. she opened her eyes to find the band and camila next to teddy, all smiling encouragingly at her. daisy was about to smile back when the door to the recording studio opened abruptly. “holy shit, tell me i'm not late.”

oh fuck.

daisy felt like her heart was about to beat out of her chest. why is she here? she was supposed to be in new york, not los angeles.

“y/n! you are kind of late.. hope it was for a good reason.” warren said with a wink “tell me the guy at least fucks good.” the drummer added while wiggling his eyebrows.

the blue-eyed singer wanted to disappear. she tried to distract herself by playing with the hems of her long-sleeved white shirt. huh, funny. daisy thought. she always loved it when i wore this one.

“yeah, warren. he fucked better than you ever will.” y/n answered, not before rolling her eyes at their friend.

they didn't know y/n didn't fuck any guy last night.

they didn't know y/n would never fuck a guy. ever. they didn't know y/n was late because she didn't know if she could face her ex girlfriend after she told her she was leaving for good. they hadn't seen each other for two weeks, and it was fucking torture for both of them. they had grown so used to always waking up next to each other, cooking together, and doing pretty much everything together, and god did it feel weird to not see each other for longer than a day.

daisy felt like she couldn't breathe when y/n left. she always had to remind herself to breathe in and breathe out. it was as if the girl before her took all the oxygen in the world when she walked out of daisy's front door. right. she remembered bitterly as she felt the fabric of the shirt in her hands.

daisy's front door. daisy's home.

because she refused to move in with her even after three years of secretly seeing each other. she refused to let anyone know about their relationship. not even simone, who is like… them. and daisy understood, she obviously did.

it was dangerous to be one of the world's most famous singers and openly date a woman. openly love a woman. openly say the word lesbian. people would crucify you in the street if they knew you were a homosexual. that was the main reason y/n was scared, she was just a tour photographer who happened to become close with the band and fall in love with daisy on the way. if the world knew she was into women, she would never get another job.

daisy tried to tell her they would be okay, to screw the rest of the world. they loved each other. how could that ever be bad? as far as she knew, love wasn't a bad thing. but maybe she only thought that because she didn't have much experience with it. her parents hated her. men used her. she only has the band, simone, and y/n. had y/n. not anymore.

“daisy!” her name being yelled at her got her out of the trance she was in. “are you going deaf or are you just high as shit?” eddie asked from the microphone.

“she's in recovery, eddie. stop joking about that.” she heard a soft voice she could recognize anywhere snap back at him. “right, sorry.” the bassist said with his hands held up high as a way of showing surrender.

y/n looked at her and they made eye contact for a solid second. daisy gave her a small smile and looked down. “alright, let's get this party started!” warren hollered as daisy put her headphones on to start recording. “okay, the end of love, take one.”

the redhead remembered to breathe as she heard the first notes of the song.

i feel nervous in a way that can't be named.

i dreamt last night of a sign that read, the end of love.

she looked up and saw y/n drumming her fingers against her waist. she obviously knew the song was about her. ever since daisy met the photographer, almost every song she has written has been about her. the singer wrote the end of love the day after y/n walked out of her new york apartment.

it's pitiful, she thinks. even when they're not romantically together anymore, she still writes about her.

and i remember thinking even in my dreaming.

it was a good line for a song.

daisy tried to steady her breathing but when she looked at y/n she felt like she was about to pass out.

breathe in. breathe out.

breathe in. i can't fucking do this.

the flower-named girl placed her headphones down and said a quick “i need some fresh air.” before storming out of the recording booth. daisy walked through god knows how many rooms, until she found an empty one in the back of the building, she sat on the floor and leaned against the door she had just walked through.

you dumb fucking idiot, she thought. now they're all going to think you´re singing about someone in the room, or even worse, that you've relapsed and can't record a damn song. she can't go through this again.

if the band thinking she was in love with billy dunne, when she's not even into men, was bad enough, them seeing her overreact this way is going to make them figure out she has been seeing someone.

there was a minute of silence while she tried to think of an excuse to say when she gets back into the studio, but it was all interrupted by a soft knock coming from the other side of the wooden door she has been leaning against.

“i'm fine, karen. just give me a second.” the blue-eyed girl said while running a hand through her long red hair.

“i'm not karen, but if you want me to go get her, i can do that.” her heart sank as she heard y/n's voice.

“no!” she heard her own voice answer in a quick desperate way. she grimaced at how pathetic she sounded.

“well, is it okay if i come in?”

one beat. two beats. daisy unlocked the door.

the photographer walked into the room and sat on the opposite side of the singer, facing her. “do you want to talk about it?”

“talk about what?”

the girl sighed and leaned her face against the palm of her right hand. “about what just happened. you don't normally walk out of a recording session, daisy. not ever. are you okay?” she asked as she looked straight into daisy's big blue eyes.

the singer stared back and bit her lip as she felt her eyes start to water. “i miss you.”

“daisy-”

“no.” she interrupted. “you say you love me but then decide to break up with me.” she says with a scoff. “without even letting me ask you what i did wrong. without even letting me try and fight for you. for us.” a tear streamed down her right cheek.

it took everything in the girl before her to not wipe it, the way she always did.

“listen, i understand being scared. do you think i'm not frightened of how the boys will react if they ever find out we are the way we are? but i didn't care as long as i had you. i know you have your doubts. but why did we have to hide from everyone? simone would never treat us differently. we both know she's a lesbian. just like you and i.” she pointed a finger at herself and the girl who now wouldn't dare to look her in the eye.

“karen wouldn't either, she's too busy minding her own fucking business to be disgusted by us. even camila wouldn't care, she'd be delighted to know i've never felt an ounce of love for her husband” daisy was fully crying now. god, she loved her girlfriend so much. why wasn't that enough for her?

“i left for that exact reason.”

“what?” she asked.

“you deserve someone who isn't afraid to love you. who isn't afraid of who she is.” y/n continued. “you know, billy and graham saw simone kiss her girlfriend at your birthday party” she said with a sarcastic laugh. “and they didn't give a single shit.” daisy was silent as she listened intently to her ex-girlfriend's voice.

“when simone realized they saw her, she told them they'd been together for over five years. and shit, they truly didn't care. even warren said it wasn't fair simone found a girlfriend way before he met lisa.” y/n played with the rings placed around her fingers to avoid eye contact. “the entire band knows about simone, and they think it's normal.”

daisy's heart was racing, she didn't know if it was excitement for simone, because her best friend was able to love her girlfriend without a care. or if it was happiness, because the rest accepting simone could only mean one thing. if the six don't care about simone and her girlfriend, then that means they won't care about her and y/n.

the photographer was silent for a while, so daisy decided to speak first. “i don't really understand. you left me because you're afraid of them knowing about us. but, you also know they wouldn't care if they find out?” the singer´s eyes scanned her ex girlfriend´s face, trying to find an answer.

“yeah… it's stupid.”

“damn right, it fucking is!” daisy sighed. “i love you. you love me. we can at least tell them and simone about our relationship.”

y/n was the one holding back tears now. “i want to. i truly do.”

“then what's stopping you?” her voice softened at the sight of the girl she loves the most crying in front of her.

“I can't openly love you, not when i can't even say… well, you know what.”

“god, y/n. you didn't tell me you were still struggling with that. i could've helped you.”

“i know you would've, but i didn't want to be a burden.” daisy slowly raised her arm and caressed y/n's cheek in the soft, loving way she always does. “you're not a burden. not ever. not to me.” the flower-named girl tucked the girl's hair behind her ear.

“i love you. i love you so fucking much, i can't breathe when i'm without you.” she continued. “you helped me when i was trying to recover from my addiction. you were there when i got out of rehab. you've helped me stay clean.”

“that was all you, daisy.”

“yeah, but you were next to me the entire time. the least i can do is be next to you, while you learn to accept yourself.” “it took me a while to come to terms with being a lesbian, too.” daisy said as she twirled a piece of y/n's hair around her finger.

“i used to think the only way i could make it into the industry was by not caring about men stealing my music because at least people would hear them. fuck, i forced myself to want them, the same way they wanted me. because that was the closest i thought i'd ever get to being loved.” “but that's not what love is. love is what you and i have.”

y/n placed her hand over daisy's. “i want to be brave, for you.”

“you already are. you just need to be brave for yourself. because you deserve it.”

“thank you, for everything.” y/n gave her a soft small smile. “you don't have to thank me for anything, seeing you smile is good enough for me.”

the two women locked eyes, and they just stared at each other for a small moment. y/n's hands began to shake with desperation, she craved the feeling of daisy against her. and suddenly, she felt a force pulling her towards the redhead girl, daisy placed her hands on both sides of y/n's waist, and instinctively, as if her body was made to be next to her's, y/n placed her hands behind daisy's neck, the same way she has done for the past few years, their bodies were pieces of a puzzle made to be together.

they both leaned into each other, they were so close, they could feel each other's noses rubbing together, daisy smiled at the sensation. “can i-” daisy started “you don't even have to ask.” the girl interrupted, before smashing her lips into the singer's.

their lips locked, the two women having been in the exact same position hundreds of times, but this was different. this kiss was about understanding, about forgiveness, about acceptance, about moving forward. it lasted a few more moments until they were out of breath and had to pull away.

“i love you, daisy jones.” the girl whispered against daisy's lips. “i love you, y/n l/n.” she answered with glossy, vibrant eyes. before getting back into her usual cocky self.

“well, not to spoil my amazing new song, which is going to be a hit, but there's a specific lyric i think you're going to like.” she said, trying to fight back a smile. y/n rolled her eyes at her girlfriend's antics.

“oh yeah? what is it?” daisy cupped y/n's cheeks and stared lovingly into her lover's eyes. “i've always been in love with you. could you tell it from the moment that i met you?” the redhead sang before kissing her beautiful girlfriend again, and again, and again.

daisy still had to finish recording her song, and they still had to explain what took the photographer so long to find her, but luckily, this time y/n wasn't afraid to tell them the truth.

we were reaching in the dark

that summer in new york

and it was so far to fall

but it didn't hurt at all.

#daisy jones imagine #daisy jones x reader #daisy jones and the six x reader #lesbian x reader #daisy jones angst #daisy jones fluff #x reader #fanfiction #daisy jones and the six imagine #daisy jones #daisy jones and the six

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halfmoondaze · 9 months

Note

I got some angsty angst so one of jacks ex’s sends a video of her jack doing it but it was taken before jack and y/n get together but obviously the reader will be mad or at least disgusted

The Leak

Jack retuned home worned out from a stressful day at the studio. Before he could even close the front door, Y/N walked to the foyer and confronted Jack.

“Hey-”

“What is this?” hurt and anger was evident in her voice as she took her phone in her hand showing him, the thumbnail of the leaked video from twitter.

It was a video of Jack and her ex doing it.

“Y/N it’s not what you think” he said trying to remain calm. “I can explain-”

“Is this how you spend your time when you say you’re in the studio?”

“Babe, I was in the studio”

“Bullshit” she said as tears welded in her eyes. “Why did you keep this from me?”

“We weren’t even together”

“So, is that make everything ok now? I had to find this through your ex who thought it would be amusing to DM me the video, thinking she was being so kind for giving me a heads up before leaking it”

Jack ran his hand through his curls.

“Y/N I’m so sorry you had to go through that”

“You really thought I wasn’t going to find out, huh?” she crossed her arms.

Jack didn’t say anything.

“I thought so” she said before storming to their shared bedroom.

As the night wore on, Y/n found herself tossing and turning in bed. The room felt empty and cold in his absence and guilt started consuming her as she replayed the argument in her head over and over.

She was so angry that she didn’t consider Jack’s feelings into all of this. After all, it was his privacy that was being invaded by someone he thought he could trust at some point. If the roles were reversed, Jack would for sure be so protective and reassuring towards her and would be taking action in no time. And what did she do? Whine and cry and make it all about her. To say she was embarrassed was an understatement.

She quietly got up and made her way to the guest room, where Jack was.

As she approached the room, she hesitated. But ultimately pushed the door quietly.

Jack was lying there, his eye wide open as he scrolled through his phone.

Then their eyes met, and to her surprise, there was no trace of anger or sadness in his expression. Instead, he seems like he was waiting for her to come.

“Jack” she whispered. “Can I come in?” He put his phone down and turn the bedside table before nodding.

She quietly sat beside him in the bed as he looked at her.

“I’m sorry” she said with her voice almost in a murmur.

He took her hand.

A few tears fell through her eyes. “I was stupid and didn’t give you a chance to explain and I completely disregard your feelings” she gulped. “This is such a violating situation and at any moment I asked you how you were feeling”

He reached out for her and pulled her for a hug as she broke into tears.

And he just held her until she calmed down.

“I know you wouldn’t do it to hurt me. But it looked kind of bad, didn’t it?” he laughed softly.

Y/N nodded.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s ok” he kissed the top of her head as he pulled her into an embrace. “I had already forgiven you”

They both laid back in bed and in the silence of the night, they held each other close until they fell asleep.

#jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow x you #jack harlow concepts #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow fic #jackman harlow #jack x y/n #jack x reader #jack x you

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atinylittlepain · 6 months

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Only Lovers Left Alive

cowboy!vampire!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

warnings 18+ smut, blood, murder, studio 54, this bad boy has gawt it allllll honey

a/n | this one is from the VAULT lol. i wrote this back in june and never posted it, and now it's spooky season, so here you go, my beloved vamps. it's camp okay? we're going for camp here. ALSO, bonus points if you can guess what song vampaw (joel) is talking about hehehe

...........................................

“Wake up, baby.”

“Mmph.”

“The sun is almost down and I’m thirsty. Come on, Joel.” When he still doesn’t stir, only letting out another petulant huff, the kisses she had been leaving along his bare shoulder blades halt, teeth sinking into skin, her jaw closing just enough to make him grumble.

“Not very nice, darlin. Was having a good dream. We were back in California. You were wearing one of those sweet dresses you always had on.” He cranes his head over his shoulder, cheek still smushed into his silk pillowcase, one eye crinkling open, seeking out a kiss that she is happy to provide.

“Those sweet dresses are about sixty years out of style, my love. Are you saying you don’t like the way I dress now?” With another grumble, he finally twists around to sit up in bed, squinting in the dim light as his eyes roam over her body, sequined and slinking.

“I like you all the time. You know that, huh?” Even after all this time, his palm slipping along her cheek can still set her stomach flipping, the only one he softens his snarl for.

“I know. So get dressed for me. While the night is still young and the people haven’t flooded themselves with too much liquor yet.”

If ever there was a decade for her man, she’d think it’d be the seventies with how good he wears it. Cream-colored suit and a black silk shirt that could hardly be called a button-up with the way he wears it, dripping gold chains laid pretty and perfect over the tan plains of his chest. Faded orange aviators to dull the sting of all the Manhattan neon when they step out into the night, his arm slung heavy around her waist as they throng through the sweltering summer crowds.

That’s the other thing, as the years have passed by it seems that people have started showing more and more skin. Bare shoulders and sternums, shimmering with sweat in the close, hot night. It’s enough to make a girl’s mouth water. But they aren’t the kind to dine out, at least not these days, not when it’s so much more fun to do it like this.

She can feel the bass in her hips all the way down the block, eyes drooping in pure pleasure when she catches sight of the familiar flickering sign of Studio 54. A dance they have down by now, slinking right past the line of people waiting to get in, a quick bat of her lashes loosening that velvet rope for both of them to step inside the pulsing rhythm and light of the club.

Already a little bounce in her heels, bobbing her head side to side, her lips pulling back in a sharp grin, she presses her palm in the middle of Joel’s chest, though he’s unmoving, unimpressed in the close crowd, sunglasses sliding down his nose to look at her.

“Please, Joel.”

“You go on. Gonna get a drink first.” Whiskey neat. Beneath it all, still her cowboy.

“Oh fine, you’re no fun though. What’re you in the mood for tonight, baby?”

“Something lean. Swear I could taste the heart attack on that one last night.” Teeth, all teeth, technicolor in the flashing lights. A quick slip, his tongue licking into her mouth just once before he’s shouldering off toward the bar, leaving her to it.

She wastes no time, slipping through the crowd to the middle of the dancefloor, the pumping beat rolling her shoulders back, swaying her hips in an easy spin as she stretches out. She knows all the beats to hit by now. Arching her neck just so, one arm extending out before slipping her palm from her sternum down to her pelvis, her hips dipping back in time with the thrumming music. Side to side, eyes fluttered shut, she can already feel the pull of someone coming closer. Brunette, tall, all sharp lines and glittery eye makeup.

Early in their time here, they had to set some ground rules. Never anyone famous, not after she nearly drained Elton John before Joel stopped her when he realized who the man was. Low profile. The nobodies, the hanger-ons, the ones they could slip out with and not a soul would notice. And this girl sliding up behind her fits the bill perfectly.

Cherry red nails splay along her hips and she leans into it, tossing her head back on the girl’s shoulder, smiling big and bright. She doesn’t ask for her name because she doesn’t care, simply slipping her hand through the girl’s hair to guide her lips to hers. A quick flicker of her tongue, just a taste to see what she’s working with. Sweet, sweet, sweet.

No words, not over the rolling bass and dizzying lights, just her hips molding and moving with this girl’s, spinning around to slip her arms over her bare shoulders. She catches his eyes through the crowd over the rims of those damn sunglasses of his, shooting him a slanted grin and a small nod, an invitation that she knows he won’t take just yet. Joel likes to watch, something else she’s learned over the years. Nursing a glittering glass of something dark and strong as she continues to sway and dip against the girl. But the moment the dizzying synth of I Feel Love starts flooding through the club, she knows it’ll be time for dinner real soon. Because for as much as he rails against disco music and its sugary-sweetness, Joel Miller has to admit that Donna Summer makes a mean record.

She feels him before she sees him, a wide palm slinking around her waist to splay over her stomach, pressing up behind her even as she keeps her arms slung behind the girl’s neck.

“Is he with you?” Barely heard over the driving music, she just smiles and nods, leaning in to let her lips graze her ear.

“Do you wanna come have some more fun with us? Somewhere a little more private?” It’s almost too easy. She’d be bored with it if she wasn’t so thirsty, smacking her lips as they trail out of the club, her arm slung around the girl’s waist, her other hand held in Joel’s as they traipse through the swirling, blinking city streets.

“He doesn’t talk much, does he?”

“Don’t worry about him, baby. I promise he’s lots of fun, you’ll see.”

Their other ground rule. No alleys, no backs of bars or cars, never in public, always at home, wherever that might be. Easier, simpler, cleaner. The world has gotten more complicated, and they’ve had to change with it.

She lets Joel lead them up the two flights to their apartment, all the while stumbling in between stolen kisses and squeezes with the girl whose name she still doesn’t know, and probably won’t ever know. Another lesson learned, while fear tastes good, whatever this is, this want, this lust, goes down even sweeter.

Joel doesn’t like to touch though, instead sitting down in the leather armchair facing the bed, legs splayed wide and a palm rubbing at his scruff as she and the girl crawl onto the mattress, the slip of silk against skin, swallowing down her sighs. She kneels behind her, her hand skating up her front to curl around her throat, holding her spine in a perfect arch, on display for her lover.

“What do you think?” The tilt of his head, elbows coming to rest on his thighs, gold chains dangling and dazzling on his neck. And teeth, all teeth.

“This’ll do just fine, darlin.”

“Are you guys tripping out or something?” A little tug, just a touch unkind to the girl’s hair, lips to her ear, shushing her.

“Shh, baby. You wanna feel good, don’t you?” A kiss to her temple, just behind her ear, down over that dizzying pump just below her jaw, so much of it rushing all at once she feels herself get a little lightheaded when her tongue flickers out over that pulse. Her one hand still tangled up in her hair, holding her neck long and taut, her other palm gripping the swell of one of the girl’s breasts, feeling the rise and fall of her ribs between her fingers. That fluttering thing, that thing she can break and burst between her teeth.

Her eyes don’t leave his, steady and still as she mouths along the girl’s neck, finding that soft, trembling spot that makes her jaw ache. A broken gasp, the only sound the girl makes when her teeth finally sink in before that fluttering fizzles out.

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Thank you, darlin. Always do so good for me.” Finally sliding his sunglasses off, he kneels down on the end of the bed, the body held between them as they both start to drink. Every last drop. Her mind swims in the sate, warmth rushing beneath her skin as she lets out a long sigh, already slumping back into the sheets while Joel hoists the body over his shoulder. She doesn’t know what he does with them, just that by the time he gets back with a soft click of their front door, a different need has settled in her bones.

“All good?” His hand slips along her ankle, kneading at the curve of her calf as he kneels at the end of the bed, eyes dragging along her body.

“Taken care of. Don’t worry yourself about it. You already handle the hard part.” The beaded material of her dress slips back, bunching around her hips as she spreads her legs for him to settle between her thighs, his slow crawl onto the bed ending with a kiss dropped to her lips.

“Hmm, I’m not worried. But I do need something else from you, baby.”

“Think I might know what you need.” He’s already slipping back down her body, tugging the straps of her dress off to let his teeth graze over her nipples. But before he can set her mind into a perfect haze, she reaches over to the nightstand to flick the needle of the record player into place. A chuckle thrums against her stomach where his mouth is resting when that familiar snare riff starts to crackle and pop.

“Don’t deny it. I know you like this song.” He hums low in his throat, his chin resting over her pelvis as his eyes glint up at her.

“Best invention in a while has to be the twelve inch. Can just let it play, don’t have to worry about catching the needle for a little while longer, and this song was made for it.” When she rolls her eyes at him, his teeth bite down over the jut of her hip, a quick pinch of pain that makes her huff.

“If you like it so much how come you never dance with me?”

“I like watching you too much. Watching everyone else watching you, knowing you’re all mine, even when you get all fresh with them.”

“Fresh, huh? Someone learned a new slang word it seems.” Another bite to the soft curve of her stomach, hard enough to make her yelp, though he’s quick to soothe the skin with his tongue.

“Just keeping up with the times, darlin. But if you really want a dance with me so bad, I suppose I could indulge you one of these nights.” That crooked grin of his makes her huff. He’s promised her a dance a few times now, and has yet to fulfill that wish. But before she can tell him off he’s already settling the heat of his mouth over her cunt, his tongue dragging a salacious stripe up before settling over her clit in a lazily circle.

He knows her body like his own at this point, coaxing pleasure out of her the way he knows she likes, a low hum in his throat as he dips his tongue down to fuck up into her, fingers digging into the swell of her ass to press her hips up closer to his mouth.

They don’t even have to speak, not anymore, just long mewling sighs rolling through her chest, her heel digging between his shoulder blades while he continues to lap at her cunt. But it never gets old, the way she furls up around him, that pleasure contracting and contracting until it all blows out and bursts, white hot and heaving. Only her fingers hooking in the chains around his neck finally drag his face away from her cunt, up and up until she can taste herself on his tongue.

“Always so sweet for me, huh? My angel gets sweeter every day.” She runs her fingers through his hair, taking a beat just to look at each other, the same man she fell for all those decades ago, that same sweetness in his eyes.

“You and me, Joel. Forever.”

“That’s right, darlin. Forever.” Another kiss, slower and more desperate as she shrugs his suit jacket off, fingers running quick through the few buttons of his shirt that are actually done up before she gets to work on his belt. But she doesn’t get far in her efforts when the catch of the needle startles both of them, Joel grabbing her wrist before she can reach to set it back to spin.

“We don’t need it, huh? Give that Summer woman a run for her money with the moans coming out of you.” He swallows up her laugh, his tongue twining with hers as he finally shrugs his pants down his legs. She’s only a little surprised to see he isn’t wearing underwear, a habit he picked up somewhere in Italy in the 30s.

“How does this damn dress come off?” He grumbles it out, hands grasping at her waist where the fabric has all bunched up and she has to laugh at the furrowed frustration in his face.

“There’s a zipper, here.” Joel huffs as she deftly undoes the zipper running up the side of her dress, pressing his face between her breasts and sighing.

“Fucking zippers. You know what I liked? Those corsets you used to wear with all the laces. That was easy to figure out.” She tugs at his hair, coaxing his face up so she can quirk her brow at him.

“Spoken like someone who never had to wear one.” He just grins, shimmying her dress down until she can toe it off and lay tangled up in each other’s bareness. His cock rests against her thigh, flushed and heavy, the weight of it sending a pang of want up her spine.

“Do you want me, darlin? You still all mine?” It startles her sometimes, how sweet he can be, those dark brown eyes of his looking up at her through his lashes, glinting in the dim lamplight. Her man, the beast that lays down at her feet. She brings her palm to his cheek, lightly scratching at his stubble, his eyes fluttering shut with the sensation.

“You know I am. I always want you.” That sweetness snaps into a snarl when she coaxes him down for a kiss, her tongue slipping into his mouth and lapping up the last taste of their dinner, just a tinge left on his bottom lip.

Languid and smooth, he guides the tip of his cock through her aching cunt, both of them sighing when he starts to spread her open around him. Perfect pain simmering just beneath that shake of pleasure, his hips settling against hers, stuttering into stillness as they both settle into the stretch. His palm slides down the outside of her thigh, hooking behind her knee to draw her open for him, her calf resting in the crook of his elbow as he finally pulls back before rolling his hips forward in a languorous stroke that sends them rucking up the sheets. Push and pull, he moves them into a slow, strong rhythm, each thrust making her gasp as she drags her nails down his back.

“Always so perfect like this, ain’t you? Mine from the moment I met you.”

“Fuck yes. Make me feel so good. Yours, all yours.” It all slurs together, praise and pleas mingling with the slick sound of flesh meeting over and over again. Their mouths rest over each other’s, just close graze, open and receiving what the other provides, swallowing up sighs and moans and preening cries of each other’s names. Just like this, her favorite way to have him, blanketed by the broadness of his shoulders and those blown-out eyes of his, unwavering, a heady weight on her even when she scrunches her eyes shut. Though Joel doesn’t let that last long, a snarl with the sweet when his hand comes to her jaw, fingers pressing into her cheeks to get her to refocus.

“Eyes on me, darlin. That’s it. Fuck, you’re good, huh? So good for me.” His words come out a bit breathless, though his eyes stay steady on her, even as he sits back on his haunches, palms slipping under her ass to pull her hips up into his lap, fucking into her deeper, more desperate. It’s just over the edge of too much, her spine arching off the bed until only the wings of her shoulder blades are pressed into the mattress. Every muscle in her body snares taut and tight, her cunt spasming around him as she unravels, going sick with the pleasure as he settles his hips into a close grind. He’s never far behind, ready and willing to freefall alongside her, muscle curling until he’s hunched over her, his forehead pressed to her sternum as he snaps with a groan of her name.

He goes slack, slumping down against her, the solid weight of him making her sigh as she runs her nails up and down his back, both of them still coming down.

“You know, baby, we’ve still got a few hours before the sun comes up.”

“Mmph, not thirsty.”

“Not what I meant.” He lifts his head from where his cheek had been smushed against her sternum at that, brow furrowing at her.

“You owe me a dance. And I intend to get it before we have to leave this city.”

While she’s certainly all his, she knows that he’s all hers just the same, and that he couldn’t possibly say no to her, ever. And though it’s not without a few grumbles on his part, he’s back in his suit and sunglasses in no time, palms grabbing at the barely-there fabric of her dress as they slip back into the club. Except this time, she keeps her fingers circled around his wrist, tugging him out into the center of the pulsing dancefloor.

“Move pretty good for your age, baby.” He rolls his eyes, biting back a smile she can see twitching at the corners of his lips. But he’s quick to hide it, throwing her into a tight spin that makes her laugh, his arm snaking around her waist to pull her back against his chest, his lips pressed to the curve of her ear.

“Guess I better remind you just how good I can move, huh?”

He does, until they absolutely have to leave before the sun starts to creep out from behind the skyscrapers, slinking home in the haze of dawn and collapsing in a heap of tired limbs on their mattress.

Meanwhile, across town, a young woman is taking the subway with a sinking, sickening feeling in her stomach. She’s on her way to the police station. Her roommate said she was going to Studio 54 last night, and never came home, even though she knows she had an early morning shift at Macy’s. Maybe she’s overreacting, she thinks to herself. But the string of disappearances tied back to the club are hard to ignore, and something cold snickers up her spine when she thinks about her roommate stepping behind that velvet rope.

The officer she talks to is kind, taking the time to listen to her story, though he regretfully informs her that they don’t have a single lead on the disappearances, taking the picture of her roommate from her hands and tacking it onto a cork board alongside at least a dozen other faces.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, we’ll do our best to get to the bottom of it. Though I’ll admit this one has us scratching our heads. But in the meantime, my advice to you is to stay far away from that club. Whoever, or whatever is doing this, it seems like pure evil to me.”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller story #joel miller series #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine

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cellarspider · 2 months

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7/?? germs.

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We return to a movie that disrespects the archaeological importance of roads, Prometheus.

I am still not over that. I will never be over that.

This time, content warnings for continuing frat boy archaeology, cringeful application of racist terms to lily-white androids, me screeching about site contamination some more, and Apollo’s dodgeball striking this movie with a glancing blow about masking.

So, back in the theater in 2012, I had already lost sympathy for the cast. They were being set up as stock horror movie characters, they were doing their jobs in a way with a certain flair for the incompetent.

And one of them, I suspect, the movie intends to make into a “flawed but you feel for him” kind of guy. Or, I hope they intended to make him “the guy in the slasher movie who you hate and want to see die”. That’s Holloway, one of the two archaeologists. He’s robot racist.

Like, seriously robot racist. The whole crew is, David literally gets referred to as “boy” here, which isn’t so much a dogwhistle as a tornado siren. No wonder David is quietly starting to show his disdain for the human crew.

“They're making you guys pretty close [to human now], huh?”

“Not too close, I hope.”

One of the few themes the movie handles halfway competently is the parallel between the humans stumbling all over themselves as they rush to go meet their makers, while David is already experiencing the disappointment of actually meeting his, and finding out they’re a bunch of clueless assholes. Are we supposed to believe the same of the Engineers? I don’t know. They definitely think of humans as lesser, though. More to come on that later.

Because right now, an expedition is barrelling toward the alien structure–again, driving all over the FCKING ALIEN ROAD–and they’re doing it with only six hours of daylight left, because Holloway literally says “It's Christmas [...] and I want to open my presents.”

I cannot communicate how heinous this character felt. The actor did a perfectly fine job playing him, but if Charlie Holloway was real, his name would be said with the same venom as that of the man pictured below: Heinrich Schliemann, the man who found the real, actual city of Troy, and immediately dynamited a trench through the royal palace, destroying who knows how many artifacts from the period the Iliad was based off of. Yes, I picked out the most assholish-looking photo of him I could find on purpose.

Also, Holloway’s an anti-masker, apparently.

I’m going to step back for just one second and list the one practical, movie budget reason why characters might take their helmets off. The costume designers did an admirable job coming up with something that fits the general requirement of a helmet in major studio releases, prior to The Mandalorian: make the actor’s faces completely visible, because without actors with a strong sense of physical presence and voice acting, you’ll lose connection with the audience.

They did a great job with that. Unfortunately, shiny helmets are a bastard to digitally edit film crew out of.

It’s not impossible to place lights and crew so that the audience won’t notice them. Alien certainly pulled it off. Clear plastic elements in helmets also mean other logistical challenges, though: fogging being the main one. This, and cooking your actors in a fishbowl under studio lights.

Both problems can be simultaneously combated by installing A/C fans within the helmets, but because these helmets are entirely clear, you’re limited to hiding them down near the neck, and anybody who’s done similar for a cosplay or suit will know that it’s potentially noisy and not always effective. You can actually see condensate on the helmets in the movie, though whether that’s from the actor’s breath or a deliberate choice, I don’t know.

All this adds up to increased time resetting actors (i.e. cleaning sweat off of them without disrupting their makeup), more exhaustion from said actors, and the worry that the highest-paid, plot-critical actors may decide they don’t want to do a sequel if the shooting experience is too physically unhealthy.

And then there’s also more time spent carefully arranging crew and lights to hide their reflections, or more time making some poor VFX artist erase a transparent, curved reflection from frame and replace it with something else, or make the actors more comfortable by adding the glass in later with CGI, at the potential loss of some realism. The average modern movie studio would choose one of these VFX-driven options and demand it done in a week, which is why VFX artists need to unionize.

So. I understand at least a few logistical reasons why you don’t tend to make actors wear helmets for too many shooting days. But it has to be balanced with the story. It has to feel believable. It has to fit the story. It has to not make your characters look like mud-witted morons.

As soon as they find liquid water and the oh-so-deadly CO2 levels start to drop, Holloway takes his helmet off.

“Don't be an idiot.”

“Don't be a skeptic.”

Flames on the side of my goddamn face.

Now, this is the moment a lot of people lost sympathy for the human characters, even back in 2012. It was a dumbass idea even then, in the pre-’rona years. Sadly, Millburn the biologist isn’t written smart enough to punch Holloway in the nuts over even thinking of doing this, because we have two problems with what Holloway’s doing here: Biology, and biology.

First, biology.

(https://www.turbosquid.com/3d-models/13-viruses-virus-3d-model/1071200)

Obviously, they don’t know if anything’s in the air. He could find out that humans are deathly allergic to alien dust mites. He could have just caught himself a case of space covid, which he and the lemmings that follow him can then transmit to the entire crew if he’s not kept in quarantine. They can sterilize the sealed suits, but they can’t sterilize the inside of his lungs. Yet.

Second, biology.

Specifically, Earth biology. Do you know how carefully modern space agencies sterilize anything that’s headed for Mars, or anywhere else that might have a biosphere of its own? A lot! They sterilize everything a lot! Because microbes are hardy little bastards. We’ve never found extraterrestrial life, only precursor molecules that show the capacity for life to develop in other places. How are you going to verify you’ve found alien life, or even those precursors, if you can’t prove that your samples are uncontaminated? What happens if microbes from Earth manage to survive the trip and establish a foothold somewhere? What if they destroy native life?

This movie’s characters treat this with only a fraction of the gravitas that the cinematography does, which is part of why this remains so jarring throughout. The practical sets, the art direction, and the camerawork are all excellent. The editing continues to do its best, though it almost feels like things were cut very tight through this to speed things along and to give more time, unfortunately, to what the characters are doing.

their crimes against my sanity are not done yet

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As a side note, rounding up some discussion from a previous entry: The most excellent artist @noordzee pointed out that the clashing artistic style of the moon and stars slapped onto the carving of Kʼinich Janaab Pakal I. In the previous post, I focused on the link between that carving and its use in ancient aliens conspiracy theories. But let's dig a bit into actual Maya iconography around celestial bodies instead.

Now, I am not an expert on Classical Maya stuff. Not in the slightest. And there is a lot of information on their art that is linguistically inaccessible to me, as a non-Spanish speaker. But out of the Maya art and writing that survived the book-burning conquistadors, we have some iconography for the moon and stars, and they don’t look like what’s in the movie.

I wasn’t able to find any specific pieces of art that contained stars, but I did find the glyph for star, ek’.

I was only able to find depictions of a crescent moon in the context of the moon goddess, where she tends to be sitting on the crescent like a chair, or one part of it is shown behind her, almost like a tail (though I can’t be certain whether that’s due to chipped paint).

The moon by itself was somewhat harder to find. I couldn’t find any Maya depictions of it with my limited poking around of the spanish internet, but I did find a (much later) Mixtec depiction of the moon, complete with a lunar rabbit! Much like East Asian cultures, the darker markings on the moon are culturally interpreted as a rabbit shape.

Thanks again to nordzee for pointing out the dissonant art style, because the real mesoamerican art on this subject is phenomenal.

Next time, the movie will hurt me more, so if anybody else has fun facts to share or details to point out. PLEASE. Ease my pain.

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Alt text citations:

None this time. Many ramblings, though.

#prometheus 2012 #prometheus (2012)#I work in a place where quite a lot of people have to put on clean room suits to go to work #their rooms are behind airlock doors #and that's just to make sure outside germs don't get in #to keep things clean #we don't even have the REALLY scary containment rooms that a few biological laboratories have #I'll ramble more about the logistics of that later #when the movie gets around to breaking laboratory safety standards as well

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lokiondisneyplus · 7 months

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The good news is that Loki has been able to find some familiar faces at the Time Variance Authority — and they recognize him, too! The bad news? He can’t stay in one place for very long because his entire body is constantly being sucked through time and space across The Multiverse due to a pretty painful-looking phenomenon called “Time Slipping.” Didn’t think it could happen in the walls of the TVA? Well, think again, because it’s happening to Loki.

The second season of Marvel Studios’ Loki kicks off with the God of Mischief trying to get a grip, literally, on the timeline as he struggles to stay in one place long enough to have an actual conversation with Mobius. Unfortunately, because Loki has been thrust across The Multiverse timelines repeatedly, he keeps popping in and out of places, both past, present, and future as he races to not only steady himself but also keep the TVA from imploding from an overloading Temporal Loom, too. Just another day at the office, huh?

“Loki is having a problem which is that he’s in space, but he’s not rooted in time. He’s essentially glitching and being involuntarily molecularly disassembled between different points,” Returning star Tom Hiddleston explains. “It’s incredibly disorienting because he doesn’t know where he is or which time he’s in and it becomes like a mystery or a riddle that he’s got to solve. Why is this happening to me?”

Essentially, as Hiddleston jokes, Loki’s “had a really, really bad day and the day is getting worse.”

Though it looks scary on-screen, don’t worry, Hiddleston isn’t really getting torn apart molecule by molecule. As he explains, “This is where I’m embarrassed to say that in my limited carpet bag of physical abilities, I can’t in fact Time Slip.” However, the actor did commit to making Time Slipping look as painful as possible for the camera, constantly contorting his body to create uncomfortable situations, at one point considering using actual ropes and cables on wires to move his body in different ways.

“Tom is one of the most, if not the most, dedicated performer I've ever seen” Executive Producer Kevin Wright explains. “It wasn't that it wasn't painful in the script. We knew what, functionally, it was doing in the story. As everybody starts to get in the room, you have to start having those conversations of what is this? How do we see it on screen? What does it become? It kind of came about just through Tom's process.”

Hiddleston got maybe a little too into the process of Time Slipping. “I’ll do different variations of being spun into or spun out or ripped away from or pulled into reality.” He continues. “I’ve found that trying to put my own body under tension is strange to do. Your body doesn’t want to be under stress, it wants to be comfortable but that feeling of as if you’re being twisted out of alignment like a piece of elastic tor tearing and ripping, that’s the hard thing.”

All of this would eventually be sent to VFX to mesh it all together, and as Wright explains, Hiddleston, “Took it upon himself to be like, I want to be every single element in that VFX. So, if he's slipping, it’s the character conceptually being in six different places at once. He wanted to play all six of those performances, and then VFX will stitch them together.”

The countless takes of Time Slipping were worth it, though, because “It gave VFX and sound and everybody stuff to work with, where it's just making it even more gruesome and pulling tendons.” Wright adds. “You have all these elements of vocals, the stretching, bones cracking. We'd turn them up and turn them down, depending on the slip. But it was more about making it a bespoke performance, each one of those slips.”

Hiddleston praises VFX crew working behind-the-scenes on Loki who made the Time Slipping look seamless, removing certain frames, and adding them in a quick succession so it really looks like his body is being ripped apart. “A kind of very intense visual effects sandwich,” he jokes, “I take my hat off to the visual effects team for helping me out because it’s been a more physical [process] than I thought it was going to be.”

Editor’s note: The following interview was conducted before the SAG-AFTRA strike began on July 14, 2023.

#tom hiddleston #time slipping #loki s2

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jujumin-translates · 9 days

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Sakuya Sakuma | [SSR] Petals and a Letter | BE.MINE ver. SAKUYA - Part 3

Izumi: Good morning.

Sakuya: I’ll do my best!

Sakuya: Huh, Kasumi-san?

Kasumi: Ah, Sakuya-kun and Director! G-Good morning!

Izumi: So you’re here too, Kasumi-san.

Kasumi: I-It’s not what you think, I’m just…!

Kasumi: I happened to come to the editorial office of “BE.MINE” for an errand, and they asked me if I wanted to take a peek at Sakuya-kun’s photoshoot since it was nearby.

Kasumi: So it’s not like I said I wanted to come here or anything…!

Izumi: (Well… even if it was because she was invited, I’m pretty sure she just came purely to see Sakuya-kun’s photoshoot.)

Sakuya: I see. It’s reassuring to have you here, Kasumi-san!

Kasumi: Sakuya-kun… you really are such a kind boy…

Sakuya: No, that’s not…! I really do mean it.

Staff: We’re all ready. Sakuma-san, please come this way!

Sakuya: Okay, pleased to be working with you!

Kasumi: Good luck, Sakuya-kun!

Izumi: …Sakuya-kun was a little nervous about today, but thanks to you, I think I saw his shoulders relax just a little bit, Kasumi-san.

Kasumi: Eh, really?

Izumi: Really. So thank you for coming to see him.

Cameraman: Alright then, why don’t you just lie down there first, Sakuma-san?

Sakuya: Okay!

Cameraman: First, close your eyes… Like that, and now slowly open them.

Sakuya: …

Sakuya: …Good morning.

Kasumi: Eh! Good morning…!

Staff: Ahaha, Hinamori-san has already replied!

Kasumi: Well, who wouldn’t respond to something like that…!?

Izumi: Fufu, I get how you feel, Kasumi-san.

Kasumi: Right!?

Sakuya: Thank you so much, Kasumi-san!

Kasumi: S-Sakuya-kun… you’re welcome…!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: It sure was surprising to see Kasumi-san walk into the studio.

Sakuya: Yeah. But it’s thanks to her that I was able to relax a bit.

Izumi: Yeah, you looked really relaxed to me, and all of your expressions were really good.

Sakuya: It’s such a relief to hear you say that, Director.

Sakuya: Actually, I asked one of the teachers at the daycare how she feels when her husband wakes her up.

Sakuya: She said it made her heart race at first, but now that they’re family, it makes her feel a lot more calm.

Izumi: I see.

Sakuya: And it was thanks to Citron-san and the others, that I also realized that I shouldn’t get too caught up on the word “boyfriend” in my case.

Sakuya: I thought it would be better for me if I imagined being woken up by my family instead.

Sakuya: So I tried to imagine being woken up by everyone in Spring Troupe and you, and surprisingly, the pictures turned out to be really calm and gentle.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Choose!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 1: Wasn’t that difficult?

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: Wasn’t the situation this time difficult for you?

Sakuya: To be honest, I was having a really hard time getting it right at first…

Sakuya: When I practiced with Tsuzuru-kun and Citron-san, they kept telling me that I was way too stiff for a boyfriend.

Izumi: Really? If it was that hard for you, you could’ve told me and I could’ve talked to the editorial department about getting you a different situation.

Sakuya: No! It was a situation that they thought of specifically for me…

Sakuya: I wanted to do my best since they were pictures people would be happy to see!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 2: Me too?

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: You imagined me too?

Sakuya: Of course. Because you’re an important member of my family, Director!

Sakuya: Imagining you might’ve even been what gave me the most strength.

Izumi: Huh?

Sakuya: Ah…!

Sakuya: No, wait, um, I didn’t mean that in a weird way or anything…!

Izumi: Y-Yeah. It’s okay.

Sakuya: Sorry about that…

Izumi: It’s okay, really. I’m happy to hear you say that we’re family, Sakuya-kun.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: You had a really calm, gentle, Sakuya-kun-like expression on your face that I’m sure your fans will be happy with.

Sakuya: I’ll be really happy if that’s the case!

Sakuya: When the magazine releases, I wanna do an Inste live to share all my thoughts and feelings on it with my fans!

[ ⇠ Previous Part ]

#a3!#a3! translation #sakuya sakuma #kasumi hinamori #// sakuya sakuma after making me experience the entire range of human emotions within the span of a single backstage

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faulty-writes · 1 year

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Do you think you could write a really soft REALLY flustered kind of iida x gn(or fem) yn, who knows full well how in love iida is with them? And I mean like iida has steam coming out of his ears (engines?) kind of flustered. I just adored super soft iida!

[ Yes, hello! Fluff seems to be my specialty and I think this request is adorable. So yes, I can write a really soft flushed Iida and reader. I apologize for taking so long on this. ]

The first time you met him was...awkward, and you'd never forget how those eyes widened when he looked at you nor the way his cheeks turned an unusual red color. Of course, given the events that happened just prior to meeting him, his reaction was normal.

It happened in the Development Studio when one of Mei Hatsume's inventions went haywire, not that such a thing was surprising, and a loud explosion sounded followed by the room billowing with smoke and fire. Of course, you hardly had the time to pay attention to that considering the force of the explosion sent you flying.

Then again, you hadn't expected to collide with someone, but it happened and when your vision stopped spinning and the smoke cleared you noticed something soft underneath you and quickly realized that you were lying on top of someone.

"Huh?" was the first word that left your mouth when you lifted your head and looked down to see one of the more handsome hero students underneath you. Then your hands curled into the front of his uniform jacket, and you realized the rather compromising position you were in.

Your chest against his and your legs entangled together, not to mention how your heart raced when he finally came to and looked at you. Of course, you assumed the fast pace of your heart was because your body was still getting over the shock of what had just happened.

His eyes lingered on you for a long moment, and you swear you felt something making your legs vibrate. It wasn't too far-fetched to say it could have been a side effect of whatever quirk he had, but you could also hear a faint thudding sound as if a tiny engine were sparking to life.

The next thing you knew, his hands were on your shoulders, and he sat up while saying, "Pardon, my apologies but I believe I must check on my friend's," politely. Although you noticed that his gaze was turned away and his face remained flushed.

Ever since that day, he acted strange around you, well maybe 'strange' wasn't the right word. It seemed that he always tried to catch your attention when he came to the Support Department, although you understood why most students tended to avoid talking to Hatsume.

Despite her gift in crafting support gear, she was a tad too unhinged for most. But what you didn't understand was the fact that Tenya came to you for the littlest of things like a scratch on his hero suit, or in some cases, he only came by to try and start a conversation with you.

Of course, his conversations were usually full of stutters, which as far as you knew, was completely unlike him. Normally he was confident when he spoke to others. Not to mention that his face would turn the faintest red just like the day you had collided with each other.

You had come to discover that the thudding sound was indeed produced by his quirk and that it only occurred when he was in your presence. You would have loved to run a diagnostic on his engines but tried to restrain yourself from asking him. After all, that would be a huge invasion of personal space.

Still, it wasn't that hard to figure out he had feelings for you and as time went on you wondered if anyone or even his closest friends knew about it. But that wasn't necessarily your concern. After all, Tenya was upfront and honest, or at least you believed he was?

Logic dictated that if he had something to tell you, he would. But you never expected you'd have so much fun teasing him about it, much less on a Saturday afternoon in the park. You normally tested out your more dangerous inventions outside or those you were currently working on, and the park was the perfect place to do just that.

You usually positioned yourself by the lake, just in case something caught on fire, and packed a large lunch. Your favorite part of the day was eating on the nearby bench and staring at the birds that played in the lake while admiring the way the sun and the clouds reflected off the surface of it.

The faint sounds of children playing and couples talking to one another as they walked along were all around you, and while you normally would block them out one sound seemed to catch your attention. "Hm?" you paused and turned your head to look down the paved road that surrounded the lake.

You should have known that Tenya of all people would be out running on a Saturday. His mind felt clouded as of late. It was unlike him to daydream or become so unfocused with his academic studies. But he found that on those late nights of sitting at his work desk inside his dorm room, thoughts of you continuously entered his mind.

Then his body would react in the strangest way. His stomach would feel uneasy, and his cheeks would grow in temperature. His engines would begin to produce the faintest steam and unlike when he used his quirk for heroism, this steam was the faintest gray color and did not smell of burning.

But even he knew why this was happening and why you were the cause. It seemed that he was in love with you or at least his symptoms were that of love. Then again, there were many qualities that you possessed that he adored.

The fact that you crafted such wonders, your intelligence, the kind way you spoke to everyone. The way you'd jump at the chance to help someone in need. You were undefinable and the light that shined through you made him almost intimidated to approach you. He knew this was silly given the fact that he had faced many dangers.

Yet, he hadn't seemed to summon the courage to walk up to you and attempt to convey the emotions that rained deep within his heart. 'Perhaps I am being rather foolish' he thought as he continued running down the path before him, carefully avoiding the passersby.

'Y/n is quite...well perhaps indescribable, but I cannot deny the way they cause me to feel and-' his thoughts suddenly came to a halt when he turned his head as he passed by a bench. His eyes widened, and all at once his world seemed to slow when he saw you.

Your eyes were just as wide as his and you were standing up with your hand held out as if you wanted to greet him hello. Oh, why did that simple gesture cause his heart to race!? For a moment he contemplated if he should stop or simply keep going and calm himself before speaking to you.

It was clear that you had already seen one another, and it would be rude not to speak to you. "Huh?" you blinked a few times as Tenya passed, even without the use of his quirk it seemed he was faster than the average individual.

You pondered for a moment if you could study just how fast he was both with and without the use of his engines, but that was highly unlikely. Especially after Hatsume made a fool of him during the Sports Festival. Would he agree to be part of any study that was presented by the Department of Support?

"Okay bye I guess?" you said, watching as he continued down the path before slowly coming to a stop a mile or two away. You knitted your eyebrows but shrugged and quickly took the last bite of your food before wiping your hands clean and returning to your makeshift workstation.

You had set yourself up with a foldable table and a blanket. Various bits and pieces of metal and inventions lay scattered around you and on the table, there were power tools and a half-finished support item you were making for one of the hero students.

"Let's see..." you tapped your chin, trying to decide if you wanted to continue working on your current invention or test out one of the ones laying on the blanket. Glancing between the two, you sighed. Decisions, decisions.

"Maybe I should finish this one first," you moved the device on the table closer to you. The way his heart was racing was not normal and the heat that came to his cheeks was making his glasses fog up. He pressed his hand to his chest, feeling the subtle thump of his heart.

His mouth suddenly felt dry, as if he hadn't drunk anything for days when he turned to look over his shoulder at you. His engines vibrated and he knew it was only a matter of time before that steam began to billow from them.

Yes, he knew staring was rude, but he couldn't help himself. You always looked so beautiful when you were lost in your work. He almost felt hesitant to walk over, but once again reminded himself that it would also be rude to avoid speaking to you.

So, with a deep breath, he attempted to regain his composure before slowly walking over to you. His hands felt clammy, and his engines continued to spark to life despite his attempts to consciously stop them. By the time he approached you, he was a flushing mess and took note that you seemed to be ignoring him.

He waited a few moments as he watched you work, seemingly oblivious to the world around you or so he thought. You knew he was standing there, and part of you was surprised considering you thought he would have said something by now.

Of course, it was also safe to assume he didn't know what to say given his feelings toward you. It wasn't until he cleared his throat that you addressed his presence. "Hm?" lifting your head, you tried to hold back the smile that threatened to come when you looked at him.

"Oh, hi Iida," you said as casually as possible, taking note of his flushed cheeks and the dull sound of his engines. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat before answering. "Yes, hello Y/n, I hope you are well this afternoon!" his voice was slightly raised, and he was chopping one of his hands rapidly through the air as per usual.

You chuckled softly, despite knowing that Tenya wasn't someone that enjoyed being laughed at. But you couldn't help it, you found his small ticks to be rather endearing and yet strange. "I'm fine, just testing out some inventions..." you gestured to the one that currently sat on the table and then to the ones that lay on the blanket.

"Ah, yes!" he blurted out, once again raising his hand in the air. "Your craft is quite admirable! I am pleased to have been given an invention of your design!" he stated, a little too loudly you noted and on top of that his voice was shaky. Then when you glanced down you could see that familiar steam seeping from his calves.

"Heh," you smirked, deciding to have a little fun, and folded your hands behind your back, looking at him with a poutful expression. "You know..." you said, walking around the table and toward him. He took a step back out of instinct, and you noted his cheeks grew a darker shade of red when you stopped in front of him.

"I could use someone to help me test some of these inventions today, I get a little bored on my own," you batted your eyelashes and slowly placed your hands on his chest, feeling the way his skin tensed up from beneath the fabric of his jogger suit.

The slight scent of metal burning filled your nostrils and even without looking, you knew that his engines were sparking more and more to life with each passing second. In addition, you could feel the way his heart pounded in his chest.

He seemed at a loss for words, but even so, you couldn't help but smile. You weren't trying to manipulate his feelings for you, in fact, you found the way he was reacting to be just as cute as his hand-chopping. But maybe if the two of you got closer, it would help motivate him to finally tell you how he felt.

"Please, won't you help me...Iida?" you said, purposely extending your bottom lip out. Those eyes of his seemed to sparkle as he looked down at you, and despite the slight sweat that was beginning to form across his brow he answered, "I...I s-suppose I c-can be of assistance if you wish!" he responded, quickly turning his head away.

You grinned in victory and decided to take advantage of the moment. "Thank you, Iida," you said, daring to get onto your tippy toes and place a kiss on his cheek which felt warm against your soft and slightly moist lips.

His engines suddenly backfired and a loud 'bang' echoed through the air, catching you off guard. You stumbled back, looking at him with wide eyes. A massive amount of smoke now surrounded him, and with his cheeks still red and his head turned away from you he stuttered out an apology.

He had not expected you to go as far as to kiss him, even if it was on the cheek. He knew that typical signs of affection such as that could be viewed as both platonic and romantic and though he had his hopes, he could not interpret what you had implied through it.

Yet, he turned his head back, daring to look you in the eye. "S-shall we begin? I would be honored to...assist you with your inventions..." he stated, despite being a tad nervous due to his past experience, but surely your inventions were less destructive than Hatsume's.

"Heh...right, um stand over there," you said, gesturing to a spot near the lake. He nodded in response and as he walked over he thought, 'Perhaps Y/n and I may be...closer one day,' and when that day came, he desired to be able to speak to you, to express himself more properly around you without having his nerves get in the way.

#tenya x reader #tenya x you #tenya x y/n #iida x reader #iida x you #iida x y/n #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #faulty writes: tenya iida: 23 #faulty writes: tenya iida: one shot: 23

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peachycrisis · 2 months

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Human Again

Chapter 6

—————

Angel and Alastor talk, and Alastor Opens Up.

Angel makes a discovery.

—————

Alastor looked around his new radio tower. It had the same spark and feel as his older one, but seemed to be a lot more modernized. Gold accents littered the walls, red vines hung from the ceiling. On the far right side of the studio was a huge console, perfect for broadcasting his radio shows, and on the far left was a comfy couch stained blood red, modernized but also still retro, just the way Alastor liked it. Alastor stood and took in everything he was seeing. Even though they didn’t know that he was alive, they still took the time to rebuild his precious tower.

Even though he could have been dead, they still made it for him regardless.

Why?

“Hey, smiles..?” Angel asked, tapping on the man’s shoulder. “You okay? You’ve been kind of.. standing there for a hot moment.”

Alastor sighed, then smiled, wiping the now dried tears off of his cheek. The walk to the tower had been relatively silent, besides the occasional sniffles and hiccups from the former deer man. Alastor ran his hand through his curly locks and turned his head to face the spider, who was directly next to him.

“Why?”

Angel paused.

“What do you mean Al?”

“Why did you do this?” Alastor asked softly, he turned away from Angel and looked down at the ground, his hands started fidgeting.

His hands hadn’t done that in nearly 90 years.

“I mean, I could of been dead… I should have been dead- I… I…” the man stuttered, he dropped the smile once more as he began to scratch his arms in attempt to ground himself- to gain control once more. “You guys didn’t know that I was alive, and you still rebuilt this for me… why?”

Angels breath hitched at the vulnerability that was radiating from the former demon, no one knows what truly happened to him- but one thing is for sure, his stubborn ass has suddenly become capable of ‘human emotions.’

or as close to human emotions as a psychopath could have.

“Huh,” Angel softly chuckled, “seems like the stick has finally shot out your ass, huh smiles?”

Alastor shot him a glance, tears in his eyes.

“You know I don’t understand your… millennial, gen.. f y z- whatever it is terminology, Angel Dust.”

“Al, we lived around the same time, I died like 10 years after you-“ Angel looked down to see the man’s hands scraping away at the skin on his already scared forearms- each scratch leaving a new red mark on his tanned skin.

How did he get those scars? He has always been covered up, showing even the slightest amount of skin is seen as scandalous on him.

But that isn’t important, the important thing right now is comforting his… friend…?

Angel moved to stand in front of Alastor, and softly grazed his hand on top of the others. The man’s hands were warm and clammy- yet soft and strong. He grabbed the man’s hand, preventing it from doing any more damage to his forearm, and squeezed it tight, he could feel the man’s hands shake in his grip, so he began to attempt to soothe him by running his thumb up and down across the soft skin of his outer hand. This seemed to work well enough, as he was able to see the man in front of him begin to relax.

God, he looks actually… really adorable…? Angel thought to himself as he used his other hand to grab Alastors other hand, holding them in front of him, between the two men. He squeezed both of the man’s hands.

“I know you’re scared Smiles, and that is okay. If any of us were in your situation, we would be scared too.” His glance moved from the hands that separated the two, to the man in front of him- making eye contact with Alastors brown eyes.

“And we rebuilt your tower because we care about you, and we wanted to you have something familiar to come back to when you came back to the hotel, whether that had to take weeks, months, or even years. We did it not because we felt bad, but because we care about you. We want you to feel comfortable and we all knew deep down that even if you didn’t show it, or even think about it directly- we knew, and I think you know too, that you do deeply care about this hotel, whether you believe in Charlie’s dream of redeeming sinners or not. We know deep down you wouldn’t give up on us, so we will never give up on you- whether your the radio demon, or your true self.”

Angel moved his left hand from Alastors, and placed it on his chest.

“And I believe that this experience has allowed you to finally figure out who you are again, rather than the image of what you want people to think you are.”

Alastor stared at Angel, mouth wide open and glistening with tears, he looked away from the spider.

“My mother always used to tell me “We just gotta think good thoughts and hope that everything passes. A smile is a valuable tool, it assures that through anything that comes our way- we will always be the ones in control,” My mother was my best friend. You know, people like me weren’t treated very well during my time of living, dear. It was really her and me against the world.”

Alastor sighed, and used his newly free hand to wipe some stray tears that had escaped.

“When she died, I promised her that I would never let me feel inferior ever again. And that’s exactly what happened, in life- and in death. I became a smiling psychopath in life, just like many of the people that were brought down here, but down here I had become a monster, and there’s no redeeming that.”

Alastor sadly chuckled, as Angel listened, watching his face as he opened up. He was nearly unrecognizable.

“Even though I don’t want to admit it, occasionally I do think about what she would think of me… heh, she would probably think I was a monster, which is reasonable. She would probably be pissed off at the fact that I have used the radio accent for nearly 90 years.”

“Radio accent?” Angel asked, was the transatlantic accent not his actually accent? What?

“Yes, this is not my original accent- I have just spoke long enough with this one that I had practically forgotten how to speak in my natural voice. I grew up in a Creole family in Louisiana, which is surprising considering how I looked as a demon. I tried so hard to… as kids these days would say, “white wash” myself in order to fit in more with the people around us, which I seemed to be eternally cursed with once I got to hell… the white wash, the smile, the accent, the works.” Alastor chuckled, running his hands, once again through his curly locks.

“Being back in this body brings back some… conflicting feelings, especially when it comes to my life and death. It feels like reverse puberty.” Alastor sighed, finally escaping the grip of Angel Dust- finding the nearest chair to him- which happened to be the blood red couch, and practically fell into it.

Angel watched as the man’s hair bounced with the movement with his head, how his smile began to slightly resurface- showcasing his pink lips. He watched as the man’s eyes fluttered closed as he sighed, finally relaxing after a while. He took note of the man’s shirt, half undone- and his sleeves rolled up half wa-

Oh no.

No. No. No.

Angel can’t.

Or maybe, just possibly he has changed enough.

#alternate universe #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #human alastor #charlie hazbin hotel #alastor #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel charlie #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #angel dust #radiodust

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